


so hot you're hurting my feelings

by angelic_angel



Series: idiots in love (and friends) [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Awkward Flirting, Background Relationships, Beach Holidays, Enemies to Lovers, First Dates, Fluff, Guilt, Huang Ren Jun & Na Jaemin Are Best Friends, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, Liu Yang Yang Is A Good Friend, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Past Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Pining, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Summer, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 64,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelic_angel/pseuds/angelic_angel
Summary: renjun and jeno unexpectedly end up on a couple’s vacation.the only problem is that they’re not a couple.and jeno is renjun’s best friend’s ex.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Series: idiots in love (and friends) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118156
Comments: 166
Kudos: 477





	1. don't send me photos, you're makin it worse

**Author's Note:**

> hello!  
> welcome to this idea of mine i had several months ago and proceeded to do nothing about until now! i should really be working more on my other fics, but i wanted to spend my time writing something a little more fun and shorter than my other wips (this fic will be made up of two parts and an epilogue)  
> i hope you enjoy reading this one!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i have never been to italy so i apologise for any inaccuracies! 
> 
> fic and chapter titles from 'so hot you're hurting my feelings' by caroline polachek

“Look, it’s non-refundable and everything’s already paid for. Just go. You need it more than I do.”

Renjun let out a mildly offended scoff at that last comment, withering under Jaemin’s judgemental stare. It _had_ been a long week. In between all of the classes, assignments and shifts at the local bookstore, Renjun had barely had time to brush his hair, never mind find matching socks.

For the third time that week Jaemin was trying to convince Renjun to take his ticket for a ten day, all-inclusive vacation in a swanky hotel on Italy’s Amalfi coast. You may be wondering why this would require any convincing whatsoever, what with the photographs of inviting blue waters, golden shores, and technicolour buildings evidence of the destination’s otherworldly beauty.

There _was_ one teeny tiny detail that had gnawed uncomfortably at Renjun’s conscience: this was a _couple’s_ retreat, originally meant for Jaemin and his now ex-boyfriend.

Something about that fact just didn’t sit right with Renjun. He had seen how loved up Jaemin had been, all smiles and heart eyes around his beloved boyfriend. He had also seen how heartbroken his best friend was when the relationship had ended, Jaemin’s eyes puffy with tears as he slurped his third ramen cup of the day. Jaemin had never really explained the reason behind the breakup, only telling Renjun that he’d been the Dumped rather than the Dumper. It had taken four entire days of coaxing on Renjun’s part for Jaemin to finally allow his phone to be pried from his hand (whose screen had been permanently playing DIY hair bleaching fail videos) and start going to classes again.

However, all of his progress seemed to regress in a matter of minutes, all because of one email.

Renjun had returned home after a particularly taxing day of back to back classes, only to find Jaemin sobbing into his hands, his laptop rested precariously on his lap as his body wracked with tears. It took a whole pint of water and half a box of tissues before Jaemin had calmed down enough to explain that he had just received the six-week reminder for his couple’s vacation in Sorrento. It had slipped his mind until that point, too preoccupied with grieving the loss of his relationship. Now, he was grieving the loss of his money too, both the airline and hotel stating that they were non-refundable after a certain date.

A week after that fateful night, Jaemin had the bright idea of asking Renjun to take his place, still too heartbroken to spend all those days in Italy on what would’ve been the most romantic vacation of his life. Weeks of pleading and begging later, Renjun still wasn’t entirely on board with the whole idea.

“But what if _you-know-who_ shows up,” Renjun pointed out carefully, stuffing noodles into his mouth with a pair of wooden chopsticks as he eyed Jaemin warily.

“He won’t,” Jaemin sighed, his face scrunched into a melancholic frown. “And even if he does, you can always kick him out. I paid for the hotel. Chuck him into the sea or something.”

Renjun snorted a laugh at that. “I don’t know. I still feel weird about sleeping in the bed you were supposed to share with him.”

“Junnie, it’s fine,” Jaemin assured, and Renjun felt his resolve weaken at the nickname. There had been many an occasion on which Jaemin had used it to get his way, most of which Renjun loathed to admit to, all of which Jaemin loved to recount. “Really, I knew that I shouldn’t have booked it. We’d only been dating a few months. I just didn’t expect it all to end so soon.”

Something about the way Jaemin looked at him then had Renjun huffing out a sigh and throwing down his chopsticks in defeat.

“Fine, I’ll go,” he acquiesced, leaning back against the couch in exhaustion. “I could probably do with a few weeks in the sun after the semester I’ve had.”

The smile that Jaemin cracked was the most sincere Renjun had seen from the younger boy in weeks. God, he hoped it would all be worth it.

☼

“Huang Renjun?”

It was not worth it. Nothing could be worth _this_.

“Ah shit,” Renjun breathed as he scrubbed his face in frustration. Jaemin had specifically told him that this _wouldn’t_ happen. It was at least half of the reason why he was even here, in the airport, about to board his flight. He turned around at the sound of the familiar voice, trying to school his features into something much more neutral, but he probably just ended up looking irritated, possibly borderline angry.

_Of course_ this would happen. _Of course_ he would be here. Why wouldn’t he? After all, it was his vacation too, wasn’t it?

“Jeno,” Renjun greeted flatly as he turned to face the other man, unsurprised by the shocked look on Jeno’s face – _Jaemin’s ex-boyfriend’s_ face.

“W-what are you doing here?” Jeno stuttered, nervously fiddling with the sunglasses hooked on his shirt.

“What do you think?” Renjun sneered caustically with a roll of his eyes. They were standing at the same gate, in the same airport, on the same day. The answer was obvious.

“Well, I-I just thought that maybe… maybe Jaemin would be here?”

Now it was Renjun’s turn to look surprised. “What? Why would you think that? He’s made his feelings pretty clear - as have you. Do you really think he’d want to talk to you even if he did decide to show up?”

Jeno’s cheeks flushed with shame as he focused his gaze on his own feet. “I don’t know,” he murmured, sounding rather small. If Renjun didn’t hate him so much he’d probably feel sorry for the guy. “I thought that I would have a chance to apologise or something.”

“Right,” Renjun scoffed bitterly, thinking back to the growing mountain of empty ramen cups back at home. “Because that would go down a treat.”

“I wasn’t expecting for it to go well or anything,” Jeno shrugged, looking rather forlornly at the queue waiting to board the plane. “I just wanted him to know that I’m sorry. That’s all.”

“So you came all the way to the airport, checked in, went through security and made it to the gate, all so you could say ‘I’m sorry’, then just get on the flight and go off to Italy together?” Renjun had to laugh. It was a foolish plan if he’d ever heard one. Jeno had clearly been watching too many romcoms. Not that Renjun could blame him. Everyone had their guilty pleasures.

Visibly embarrassed, Jeno didn’t say anything in return and instead flicked his eyes around the gate, looking anywhere but Renjun.

“Whatever,” Renjun announced, deciding he was done with the conversation. “See you around. Or not.”

With that, he shrugged his bag onto his shoulder and joined the slowly lengthening queue. Thankfully Jeno waited long enough that a few people stood between them, acting as a barrier of sorts. Renjun wasn’t sure how much longer he could spend in the same vicinity as Jeno, but he knew that his patience would be wearing thin by the time they landed in Naples (if it wasn’t threadbare already). It would most definitely be non-existent by the time they arrived in Sorrento. Renjun wasn’t daring to consider what would happen when they reached the hotel. If he did, he’d spend the entire flight and its following bus journey with steam coming out his ears. Renjun was handsome, but even he couldn’t pull off that kind of look.

It seemed that the universe was on Renjun’s side for once throughout this whole ordeal when he realised that his and Jeno’s seats were not beside one another. They would still be in the same row, but an entire aisle would be separating them and Renjun had never been more thankful for his window seat, no matter how many times he had to step on some grumpy old woman’s toes to get to the toilet. Renjun found his seat just a few minutes before Jeno boarded, allowing him time to stuff his bag in the overhead storage and settle into his seat without any unnecessary contact. By the time Jeno was stuffing his bag into the space above his head, Renjun had stuffed his earphones in and was blasting his playlist titled ‘ _fuck capitalism_ 凸(｀0´)凸’, whose songs had nothing to do with capitalism, but all sounded suitably angry. The woman in his neighbouring seat didn’t seem to be all too pleased by the muffled screaming and furious guitar riffs, but she chose to just silently glare at him distastefully every now and then. If this were any other time, Renjun would have simply told her to fuck off, but he didn’t want to risk drawing any attention to himself, especially when Jeno was mere feet away.

The flight took off without any problems and soon enough Renjun was sitting with an overpriced vodka and lemonade in hand, staring blankly out into the surrounding sky and clouds. Every so often, he could feel eyes on him that were decidedly not those of the lovely lady sat next to him. It didn’t take long for Renjun to deduce that the surreptitious glances were coming from Jeno’s seat where, funnily enough, Jeno sat. Renjun didn’t know what had gone wrong in Jaemin’s meticulous planning, but he thanked his lucky stars for the mix up because there was no way he could endure the entire flight with Jeno sneaking strange glances from the seat directly beside him. Renjun couldn’t decide if that would have been better or worse than having to endure the shuddering snores sounding from the woman beside him.

The one time that Renjun did decide to go to the toilet, Jeno looked to be asleep, his head slouched against the headrest and his mouth slightly parted. It wasn’t his best look, but it at least meant that Renjun could go about his business without being under surveillance the entire time. 

Eventually, Renjun fell asleep too despite the volume of his music, only awakening several hours later as the light to signify that his seatbelt should be on flickered to green. Much like the take-off, the plane’s landing was fairly uneventful and Renjun found himself rolling his eyes at the people clapping and cheering once they were back on solid ground, including the woman beside him. As he fixed her with a judgemental stare, his eyes caught Jeno’s just across the aisle. Renjun quickly looked away before anything could be communicated between them. Renjun was tired and he wasn’t entirely sure what his eyes were saying when he didn’t have full control over his emotions.

Slowly but surely, the plane emptied and before long Renjun was standing in the sweltering heat of Naples. The queue at passport control had been long but Renjun managed to get through without any hassle before wandering off to find his suitcase. It seemed that God was really trying to make it up to Renjun for doing him dirty back in Seoul because his bright pink suitcase was one of the first to appear on the conveyor belt. He frowned a little when he noticed a significant scratch across the fuchsia plastic, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad about it, instead deciding to focus on finding the coach that would take him to the hotel in Sorrento.

Renjun didn’t see Jeno again until a little while later when the latter was boarding their bus, looking tired and uncharacteristically dishevelled. Renjun quickly flicked his eyes to the window, pretending to focus on the bustle of the airport, but not before he caught Jeno looking at him from a few rows down. There were enough empty seats on the coach for the passengers to spread out, giving Renjun around another hour of (mostly) Jeno-less bliss.

The coach finally departed from the airport a little before seven, Renjun’s stomach letting out a little grumble as it did. He hadn’t had a proper meal since the sad excuse of a sandwich he’d eaten on the flight. He mentally planned to order room service as soon as he got to his room lest he pass out on his first night of vacation. This was supposed to be a relaxing experience, yet so far it had been anything but.

The drive to Sorrento was admittedly beautiful once they were out of the towns and cities and onto the coastal road. Renjun had to stop himself from squealing like an excited child when the sea appeared, glittering in the evening sunlight. Renjun pulled out his phone, clicking a few photos of the view, before excitedly sending them off to Jaemin (who would greatly appreciate the view), Donghyuck (who would probably send back a photo of himself, asking Renjun to decide which was more beautiful), Yangyang (who probably wouldn’t open the message for several days), and his older brother Kun (who would immediately answer with a smiley emoji and not much else).

With the roads being fairly quiet, the coach made it to the hotel in record time, about ten minutes earlier than Renjun had anticipated. Unfortunately, this meant that he would have to interact with Jeno much sooner than he had hoped. It seemed that Jeno had also realised this because he was waiting for Renjun when he stepped off the bus.

“Hey,” Jeno greeted, looking like he would rather be anywhere else. Renjun could agree with that sentiment.

“Hey,” he returned flatly, moving to collect his suitcase from the barrage of luggage that stood beside the bus. Again, it was easy to spot amidst the other boring colours but Renjun checked the nametag anyway, paranoid that he would accidentally pick up some random woman’s case instead. That very thing had happened to Donghyuck when they had all went to Tokyo the summer after leaving high school. Donghyuck’s face when he discovered the scarily excessive amount of lacy lingerie had been enough to prevent Renjun from carelessly picking up a suitcase without being entirely sure it was his own. He couldn’t help but notice the slightly amused smile on Jeno’s face as Renjun approached, eyes focused on the neon shade of pink. Too exhausted to even think straight, Renjun decided not to say anything about it, but fixed Jeno with an unbothered glare, hoping that alone would get the message across.

“I guess you should figure out what you’re going to do about a room,” he ended up saying as they strolled into the lobby. Renjun felt his eyebrows raise at the sheer extravagance of it all, with its terracotta tiled floors, white sloping ceilings and an intricately winding staircase. Beside him, Jeno let out a breath of surprise before he quickly seemed to register what Renjun had said.

“What do you mean ‘what _I’m_ going to do’?” Jeno frowned, pausing in his steps. Renjun stopped too, turning around to face him.

“Well, you’re not expecting us to share a room, are you?” Renjun asked, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Jeno’s responding silence was as good as any reply.

“Look,” Renjun sighed, wanting nothing more than to eat, shower and sleep. “You’re technically not supposed to be here. Jaemin gave me the room _because_ you’re not supposed to be here. Go figure it out, I’m going to bed.”

Leaving a stunned Jeno behind, Renjun made his way over to the reception desk. Thankfully, Jaemin had phoned in advance to ensure that the room would now be under Renjun’s name, so there was little trouble with checking in. The woman at the desk kindly handed over the key and explained how to find his room. With a smile and a practiced ‘thank you’, Renjun wheeled his case over to the elevator before stepping in and pressing his floor number. He couldn’t help the tiny shard of guilt that stabbed in his gut at the thought of leaving Jeno to fend for himself, but Renjun didn’t have the energy to deal with that can of worms.

Once the elevator reached his floor, its doors opened with a ding to reveal a shiny, blindingly white hallway, one side of which was lined by rooms, the other by an open balcony overlooking the rest of the hotel including the outdoor restaurant, pool and bar. Renjun couldn’t remember the last time he had stayed somewhere so beautiful.

It took him a little while to find the room, but when he did, Renjun was the furthest thing one could be from disappointed. Much like everything else in the hotel, the room was bright, clean and white, with accents of cornflower blue in the curtains, cushions and even the plush couch that sat at the end of the luxurious king-sized bed. Renjun gasped out loud when he noticed the glass French doors that lead out to his own private balcony.

Renjun had to give it to Jaemin – his taste in vacation spots was impeccable. The sea air was clean and fresh as he stood on the balcony, taking in the surrounding views. Renjun almost felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, nothing but the lower floors of the hotel and the sea below him. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, orange glow across the rest of the bay where restaurants had begun to light up like hundreds of fireflies, preparing for the busy evening crowds. It really was a picture-perfect place, almost exactly like the photographs Jaemin had showed him weeks earlier.

Speaking of Jaemin, Renjun slipped his phone out from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he reached his best friend’s number. Just as he was about to press ‘call’, he hesitated. Should he tell Jaemin that his ex-boyfriend had indeed turned up and was now inside the hotel? Renjun couldn’t even imagine how much that would hurt Jaemin, hearing from Renjun of all people that Jeno had pretty much moved on with his life. On the other hand, Renjun really didn’t want to lie to his best friend. He should tell him. The truth hurts sometimes.

Renjun’s thumb was still hovering over Jaemin’s number when the door to the room opened, followed by grunting and what sounded to be a suitcase crashing against the wall. Frowning, he left the balcony and re-entered the room, only to find Jeno standing in the doorway looking sweaty and rumpled.

“What the fuck…” Renjun breathed, eyes widening as Jeno just let himself into the room. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like,” Jeno scoffed, echoing Renjun’s own words from the airport. “I’m bringing my luggage to my room.”

“No, you’re not,” Renjun countered, stalking over to where Jeno was now hovering next to the bed. “What happened to you finding another room?”

“There aren’t any more available for a reasonable fee,” Jeno explained frustratedly, attempting to wheel his case further into the room. Renjun clamped a hand down on its handle, stopping the suitcase in its tracks.

“Then go and stay in one for an unreasonable fee. I’m not sharing a room with you,” Renjun snapped, feeling himself grow angrier by the second as he continued to hold onto Jeno’s suitcase.

“Look, this was supposed to be my room in the first place,” Jeno defended, sounding worn out and defeated.

“Well you royally fucked that one up, didn’t you?” Renjun muttered, not backing down even when Jeno’s brow drooped sadly.

“I know you hate me, but we’re both exhausted so can we please sort this out tomorrow?” Jeno pleaded, finally backing down and letting go of his case. “Just one night and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Renjun had to admit that he was a little surprised by how easily Jeno’s resolve weakened. He could tell just how tired Jeno was after their long flight because he felt the exact same exhaustion seeping into his bone’s and weighing down his eyelids. He really, _really_ did not want to share a room with his best friend’s ex-boyfriend. It was definitely breaking a number of unwritten rules in the bro code and Renjun had always been a law-abiding citizen.

But he was so, _so_ tired and the lavish bed had been calling his name ever since he’d entered the room. Renjun glanced at the small sofa at the foot of the bed.

“Fine,” he acquiesced, his shoulders drooping tiredly. “But you’re sleeping on the sofa. I want you gone before I wake up.”

For a moment it looked like Jeno was going to protest, his mouth opening in preparation to complain, but he must have thought better of it, because he ended up simply nodding in response before dropping onto the soft seat with a sigh.

Renjun finally freed Jeno’s suitcase from his clutches and glanced down at his other hand, which was still holding his phone. He gulped guiltily as Jaemin’s name glared up at him, very much aware of Jeno’s presence in the room.

Just this one night. One night, and then Renjun would tell Jaemin everything.

☼

Renjun met Jeno for the first time the same night that Jaemin did.

It wasn’t until their second year that they were introduced to Jeno, whom Donghyuck had met in a seminar for a module that neither of them had signed up for. (The buildings at their university were something akin to a labyrinth so it wasn’t rare for students to find themselves in the wrong room. Particularly someone like Donghyuck.)

For months, Renjun had heard all about the lovely, kind, hot-as-fuck Jeno, without ever actually having seen the boy. Jeno was somewhat of an enigma - a mystery, a myth, a legend - until Donghyuck held his annual Halloween party. Renjun was ashamed to admit that he first met Donghyuck’s mystery friend when Jeno interrupted him making out with a vampire in front of the fridge. Well, not a real one. (Vampire, obviously. The fridge was very much real.) 

With the sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat, Renjun parted from the kiss only to be faced with an uncomfortable looking but surprisingly attractive Harry Potter asking to get into the fridge. Half an hour later Harry Potter was being introduced as Jeno to a rather tipsy Renjun by an equally as tipsy Donghyuck. Renjun apologised about the vampire incident and Jeno had laughed it off before he was being dragged away to dance, by Jaemin of all people. Apparently, while Renjun had been fraternising with the undead, Jaemin and Jeno had become acquainted and had spent most of the following hours in each other’s company.

The following days had consisted of Renjun mercilessly teasing Jaemin about his obvious crush, even suggesting that he invite Jeno over to one of their Friday pizza nights. To Renjun’s surprise, Jaemin actually listened to him for once and, one week later, Lee Jeno was on their sofa, squeezed between a blushing Jaemin and a smirking Donghyuck. It was that very night that Renjun came to the unfortunate realisation that Jeno was actually much more handsome without the Hogwarts get up, his skin still managing to glow under the bluish glare of the tv and his muscles apparent even through the material of his black t-shirt.

In the end it didn’t matter how attracted Renjun was to Jeno because Jaemin looked so mesmerised every time Jeno so much as breathed. Making any sort of move on Jeno at this point would only jeopardise his relationship with Jaemin, and there was no way Renjun was risking their friendship for some boy.

So, for days, and then weeks, and then _months_ , Renjun had to sit by and watch as Jaemin pined after Jeno, listen as he mooned over his handsome face and adorable smile, sympathise as he whined about Jeno’s failure to notice his feelings. Renjun had to suffer through all of this until one day it seemed that Jeno was pining right back.

Renjun couldn’t say he was particularly jealous of Jaemin when he began to date Jeno because his attraction to Jeno had been just that – an attraction. Not a crush, not really. Anyway, by the time Jaemin and Jeno were officially a couple, Renjun was also in the process of dating a girl from one of his classes. They didn’t end up lasting very long, only going on a handful of dates before calling it quits. Funnily enough, it was all because the other girl had fallen in love with her best friend and had been using Renjun as a distraction. For some odd reason, that hadn’t hurt him nearly as much as it should have (well, maybe his ego got a little bruised) and he soon moved on with his life, while Jaemin and Jeno seemed to be happy in their perfect little relationship.

Apparently, that saying about all good things coming to an end also applied to relationships, Jaemin and Jeno’s included. The day that Renjun had returned home to a crying Jaemin was the day that he had vowed to hate Lee Jeno for the rest of his life, no matter how attractive he was or how cute he looked when he smiled. Nothing could convince him otherwise.

☼

To Renjun’s chagrin, Jeno was still in the room when he awoke the next morning.

To say that the previous night had been awkward would be an understatement. Renjun ordered room service as he had previously planned, but with the very much unplanned addition of Jeno’s food as well. They had taken turns showering as they waited for the food to arrive, both exiting the bathroom fully clothed in pyjamas lest one of them make the situation even more awkward. The meal that followed was one filled with a few forced words and not much else besides the sound of their cutlery scraping deafeningly against the plates. By the time Renjun was snuggled under the bedcovers the silence was so suffocating that Renjun was tempted to put in his earphones if only to avoid listening to Jeno breathing.

It didn’t take long for Renjun to fall asleep, lulled by the faint sound of crashing waves from the beach below. If he noticed the way Jeno shuffled uncomfortably on the sofa, he simply pretended like he didn’t.

And that’s where Jeno was now. Still asleep. On the sofa. Very much within Renjun’s sight. With a tortured sigh, Renjun threw off the bedcovers and slipped out of bed, padding quietly over to the end of the bed.

“Hey,” he called lowly, hovering over Jeno’s feet where they dangled off one of the ends of the sofa. Jeno didn’t respond, showing no sign of having heard Renjun, his head pillowed on his bicep in a position that looked far from comfortable.

“Hey,” Renjun tried a little louder, using his knee to gently nudge Jeno’s toe. This time, Jeno snuffled into his arm but still didn’t wake. Renjun huffed a frustrated sigh before leaning down and pinching Jeno’s ankle. Hard.

With a startled whine Jeno’s head lifted and his eyes sprung open, zeroing in on Renjun who was still standing at the foot of the sofa, struggling to hold back an amused smile. For a delayed moment Jeno seemed to still be half asleep, confusedly gazing at Renjun, before his eyes widened and he gracelessly rolled off the couch.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, lifting his pile of clothes from where they sat on the chest of drawers. “Sorry! I must’ve slept through my alarm.”

“Right,” Renjun muttered, trying not to laugh as he watched Jeno frantically search through his things for his phone.

“Fuck, the battery died,” Jeno groaned as he made his way to the bathroom. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be gone.”

“You’ve got nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds left,” Renjun called tauntingly while Jeno rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Renjun had to refrain from letting out a giggle, finding the whole situation much more amusing than it should have been.

Through the French doors Renjun could see the early morning sunshine reflecting brightly off the sea, making it glitter invitingly. Just by looking at it he could almost feel the warmth of the water against his skin, taste the salt on his lips, hear the lapping waves. Behind him the bathroom door opened and Jeno reappeared dressed in the same clothes as the day before. Renjun watched silently as Jeno slipped on his shoes and grabbed his suitcase, looking both panicked and a little glum.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” he mumbled before leaving through the door, letting it close behind him with a resounding click.

Ah, free at last.

☼

As it turned out, Renjun was not free at last. Suddenly, it seemed as though Jeno was absolutely everywhere he looked. Two days passed by and Renjun didn’t have enough fingers to count the amount of times he had seen Jeno both in and out with the hotel. They had crossed paths at the breakfast bar, passed by one another on their way to the pool and had even bumped into each other in a local gelato shop.

As far as he knew, Jeno had managed to find another room elsewhere within the building, but Renjun had no idea where. He didn’t want to know either. It wouldn’t do him any good trying to find out, because then he’d just be spending more time thinking about Jeno when he really shouldn’t.

Jaemin had called him on his first day in Sorrento, gushing over the photo Renjun had sent him from the bus. For some unknown reason, Renjun hadn’t been able to tell his friend about Jeno’s presence, the words getting stuck in his throat like they were caught in a pool of sticky honey. Jaemin had just sounded so happy, his crackly voice telling Renjun all about the best restaurants to visit for dinner or the nicest spots to go swimming. There was no way he could purposefully destruct that excitement, not yet. He knew that he would have to tell Jaemin sooner rather than later, but for now ignorance was bliss. Renjun thought that Jaemin could do with living in bliss for just a little longer, even if it _was_ the ignorant kind.

All of Renjun’s and Jeno’s passing interactions came to a head on the fourth night. After a long day of sunbathing and leisurely swimming, Renjun showered and dressed himself for dinner, deciding to visit one of the restaurants Jaemin had recommended. The yellow linen shirt he had chosen to wear hung loosely off his shoulders, exposing his collarbones and a few inches of newly suntanned chest. The light fabric of the shirt and the pale, silvery blonde of his hair contrasted nicely with his skin, and for the first time in a while, Renjun felt that he looked nice.

After grabbing his phone and key card, Renjun made his way out of the hotel and down into the bustling streets. According to Google Maps, the restaurant was a traditional Italian place just a ten-minute walk from his hotel. As he walked along the streets, Renjun decided that Sorrento was equally as beautiful at night as it was during the day. The unevenly paved streets and crowded buildings were a charming sight to him, unlike anything he had seen back home. The streetlights cast a golden glow along the pavement, lighting up the entrances to a number of restaurants, bars and shops that were still bustling with tourists and locals alike.

Eventually, Renjun arrived outside a quaint little building, decorated with climbing vines and twinkling fairy lights. He could understand why Jaemin had suggested such a place, the cosy atmosphere something that a romantic like Renjun was very attracted to. On the inside, the restaurant appeared to be much bigger, with most of its tables filled by couples and families and even a few solo diners like Renjun. The room was lowly lit by lanterns hanging on the walls, filled with the sound of lively chatter and wine-warmed laughter.

“Good evening!”

Renjun startled a little at the loud voice as a cheerful looking waiter approached him.

“We are a little busy tonight. Do you want to wait for a table? Or would you be okay with joining another customer?”

Renjun didn’t fully understand what the man was saying, but he managed to get the general idea. It was getting late and Renjun didn’t particularly want to wait or go and find somewhere else.

“I will join?” he eventually decided, although his words ended up sounding more like a question, unsure as to whether or not the waiter could understand him. It seemed that his English had indeed been somewhat coherent because, soon enough, the waiter was leading him through the maze of tables towards the back of the restaurant.

They stopped at a table in the back corner, the waiter’s back blocking whoever was already sat there.

“Sir, do you mind if someone else joins you tonight?”

Renjun couldn’t hear the other diner over the loud chatter, but it seemed that he agreed because the waiter simply smiled at Renjun before moving out of the way. Renjun froze when he recognised the man staring up at him from the table, both of their faces slack with shock. It seemed that God was back to hating him again because why else would Jeno be sat at this very table, in this very restaurant, on this very night. For a split second, Renjun considered turning around and walking out, but he immediately banished that thought when he realised that the waiter was still standing there, watching and smiling kindly at them. Deciding to just suck it up and try to enjoy his dinner, Renjun smiled in thanks to the man before slipping into the seat across from Jeno’s. The table was quite low and small, and their knees knocked slightly as Renjun got himself comfortable. Suddenly, two leather bound menus materialised out of nowhere and were placed in Renjun’s and Jeno’s hands respectively.

“Can I get you gentlemen any drinks?” the waiter asked politely, still smiling that cheerful smile. Renjun wondered if he was actually as happy as he looked. Renjun hoped so, but doubted it.

“I’ll have whatever the house red is,” Jeno smiled, ordering in perfect English. Of course. Renjun supressed an eye roll as he scoured the menu despite the fact he couldn’t really read it. He could feel the waiter’s eyes watching him expectantly, so he hurriedly decided to get whatever Jeno had asked for.

“Same,” he nodded in Jeno’s direction, hoping that the waiter would get the message.

“Of course! I’ll just get those for you now.” And with that, he whisked off towards the bar, leaving Renjun and Jeno alone.

“So…”

Renjun almost snorted out loud at Jeno’s attempt at starting a conversation.

“So?” Renjun echoed, raising an expectant eyebrow.

Jeno awkwardly tugged at his earlobe, a nervous habit that Renjun had picked up on over the months they had been somewhat friends. “So… how have you been?”

“Good, I guess,” Renjun nodded, choosing to focus his attention on the menu in front of him. He really wished he’d spent more time practicing English. It would make ordering food all a little less embarrassing. It didn’t help that pretty much all of the dish’s names were in Italian. He had no fucking clue what any of these things were.

“You guess?” Jeno laughed, picking up his own menu. “So you’re not sure?”

“Stop being so pedantic,” Renjun reprimanded, glaring holes into his innocent menu. Jeno just laughed in response.

“Sorry,” he apologised, realising that he was probably acting a little too friendly with someone who obviously didn’t like him.

Renjun let out a sigh and sat his menu down. “It’s fine, I’m just a little… irritable.”

“Irritable?” Jeno parroted, his brows drawn into a confused frown. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I suppose I’m still a bit annoyed about the fact that we’re both here. Together,” Renjun admitted, wincing slightly when he noticed the sad look on Jeno’s face.

“Look, I really am sorry about this,” Jeno apologised earnestly, gripping his own menu a little tighter. “I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I could always leave.”

“No! No, you don’t need to do that,” Renjun reassured, suddenly feeling really bad. For a mere second, he felt himself panic, unsure if Jeno meant the restaurant or Sorrento. “You were here first anyway. If anyone should leave it should be me.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do that either,” Jeno affirmed with a tight but genuine smile. “We’ve ordered our wine now, so you might as well stay.”

Renjun found himself smiling a little too. “Yeah, okay.”

Just then, the waiter returned carrying a tray of two large wine glasses, filled with deep red liquid.

“Your wine, gentlemen,” he announced as he set them down on the table with a flourish. “Are you ready to order your food?”

Renjun’s eyes flickered to Jeno, surprised to find that the other man was already looking at him.

“Do you want me to order for you?” Jeno asked softly, surprising Renjun with the kindness of his offer. After a moment’s consideration, Renjun nodded bashfully. He wasn’t a picky eater and he trusted Jeno enough to order something that wasn’t entirely inedible. If the delightful smells floating from the kitchen were anything to go by, Renjun doubted any of the food had the ability to taste anything but delicious.

Soon enough, the waiter was collecting their menus and Jeno had a very pleased look on his face. Renjun was suspicious.

“What did you get me?”

“It’s a secret,” Jeno whispered with a teasing smile. Unexpectedly, Renjun felt his cheeks warm at this so he immediately took a large gulp of wine as a distraction tactic. It seemed to somewhat work because Jeno quickly did the same, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a delicate sip. God, he made Renjun look like a seasoned alcoholic.

“I’ve never heard of ‘a secret’ before,” Renjun pondered sarcastically. “Is it a local dish?”

Jeno smiled that pleased little smile again and Renjun felt his traitorous stomach fill with traitorous butterflies. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Renjun didn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes this time. “How’s the new room?” he decided to ask, partially out of curiosity, partially out of the need to dissipate the lingering awkwardness.

Jeno seemed to be surprised by the question, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s fine. Not as nice as your one, but it’s still better than any hotel I’ve stayed in before.”

“Jaemin’s got good taste,” Renjun hummed before freezing, noticing how Jeno had tensed up from across the table. Shit. Renjun had only gone and fucked it all up.

“Sorry,” he added quietly, taking another furtive sip of wine.

“I-it’s fine,” Jeno stumbled, his eyes flitting around the restaurant, probably in search of their food. One sip of wine and already Renjun was putting his foot in his mouth. Usually it would take him nearly an entire bottle to get to this point of stupidity.

“You _are_ right.”

Renjun’s eyes widened. He had thought that he’d successfully ended their conversation, cursing it with the most gruesome of deaths by bringing up Jaemin. Apparently, Jeno was a bigger person than Renjun had initially thought. Renjun himself wasn’t exactly known for rising above other people’s mistakes, his dislike for Jeno being a case in point.

“Hm?”

“You’re right,” Jeno repeated, a wry smile on his face. “Even if it’s not the vacation any of us planned, Jaemin’s managed to make it a good one.”

There it was again. That stab of guilt, piercing Renjun’s skin and twisting painfully in his gut. Jaemin should be here. Not Renjun. Jaemin should be the one sipping on rich red wine, sitting in a picturesque restaurant, eating the freshest pasta Italy had to offer. Not Renjun. Jaemin should be spending his nights wrapped in fresh linen sheets, drifting asleep to the faint crashing of waves. Not Renjun.

Suddenly, Renjun felt rather like an imposter. Jeno was smiling oddly at him from the other side of the table, the glow of the lanterns reflecting in his warm eyes, making Renjun’s face feel hot and his head hurt. The wine felt like liquid lava in his stomach, hot and dangerous, burning him from the inside out. He shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t his to have. Not the hotel room, not the sun lounger on the beach, not the seat in this restaurant. Not the seat directly across from Lee Jeno. None of it.

“Renjun, is everything okay?” Jeno asked carefully, and it was only then that Renjun realised he hadn’t said a word since Jeno had last spoken.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, trying to quell the overwhelming sense of shame that clung to every one of his bones, gnawing all the way through to the marrow like a hungry dog.

“We, uh, we don’t have to talk about Jaemin,” Jeno suggested, his voice light and wary, like every part of him was trying to walk on the eggshell that was Renjun – Renjun, who didn’t know how much weight it would take for him to crack.

Jeno was right. They didn’t _have_ to talk about Jaemin, but maybe they _needed_ to. Maybe it was the only way they would talk at all. Renjun wasn’t sure what else he _could_ talk about with Jeno. The only reason they ever became some vague form of friends was because of Jaemin. At this point, Renjun wasn’t entirely sure he had ever had a conversation with Jeno that didn’t involve Jaemin in some way.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? That was why Renjun felt so terribly like he had made the worst mistake of his life.

Renjun couldn’t separate Jeno from Jaemin. He had never spent more than five minutes alone with Jeno, only when Jaemin went to the bathroom during one of their movie nights, or when Jeno turned up a little too early for a date and Jaemin wasn’t quite ready, so he’d hover awkwardly in the living room while Renjun sat on the couch in ratty pyjamas watching old drama reruns.

Now that he was alone with Jeno, Renjun didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to talk to Jeno without it turning into an argument, or turning the conversation into something related to Jaemin, neither of which Renjun wanted to happen. Not now.

When Renjun didn’t say anything, Jeno shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. The faint sound of jazz music and the gentle murmur of conversation was all that was breaking the silence between them, and Renjun’s brain hurt as he tried to think of something to say as the silence stretched and stretched like an elastic band. Renjun hoped it would snap.

It didn’t.

Fortunately, the food arrived mere seconds later and Renjun bit back a sigh of relief as steaming plates of glossy pasta were placed on the table. Jeno seemed to be similarly grateful for the miraculous appearance of their food, his shoulders dropping as the pent-up tension dissipated with the steam of the pasta.

With a hurried “Enjoy!” the waiter disappeared again, melting into the crowded restaurant to smile kindly at the rest of its patrons. Renjun decided he was going to leave that man a very large tip, especially since he’d managed to time his interruption to perfectly coincide with the boiling pot on the verge of overspilling – that boiling pot being the strange tension that had began to simmer between Renjun and Jeno. Or maybe it hadn’t. Maybe this wasn’t a new thing. Maybe this feeling of uneasiness had always been there, and now they were just beginning to notice now that Jaemin could no longer act as a buffer, like a dormant volcano on the precipice of eruption.

As a distraction from the thoughts whizzing around his head like race cars, Renjun inspected his dish for the first time since it had been placed in front of him. It looked to be just a regular spaghetti dish: long strands of golden pasta littered with cherry tomatoes, chillies and basil, sprinkled with generous shavings of parmesan. He didn’t particularly want to admit it out loud, but Jeno seemed to know what he was doing. Well, when it came to choosing food, perhaps.

Just as he began to dig in, Renjun glanced over at Jeno’s plate which seemed to look vaguely similar to his own.

“What did you get?” Renjun asked, chewing on a mouthful of his food. It really was delicious; garlicky, salty and faintly spicy – just what Renjun wanted.

“Pasta puttanesca,” Jeno answered confidently (as though Renjun understood what that meant either), twirling a strand of spaghetti around his fork. “I got you the same, just without the olives.”

Renjun stopped mid-chew. “How did you know I don’t like olives?”

Jeno seemed to choke a little on his food, his face turning a brilliant shade of pink.

“I think Jaemin told me once,” he explained, coughing a little as he did.

Renjun’s mouth suddenly felt a little dry. Jaemin. Again. It seemed that Renjun’s suspicions had been corroborated – he and Jeno truly couldn’t have a conversation without mentioning Jaemin.

This time, though, Renjun didn’t let himself freeze up. If Jeno felt comfortable enough to talk about his ex, surely Renjun should be able to talk about his best friend.

“Wow, you must’ve had some really interesting conversations,” Renjun wondered aloud with a forced smirk. “I can understand why my eating habits were brought up. They truly are the stuff of legend.”

“Jaemin only mentioned that once,” Jeno laughed softly, his face still vibrantly flushed. “He spoke about you a lot, though. I feel like half of our conversations ended coming back to you.”

Now it was Renjun’s turn to blush. “Oh, I didn’t realise he actually spoke about me to other people. I guess I do the same, though. He spoke about you a lot as well. Sometimes about things I’d rather not know, but it was mostly wholesome.”

This time, Jeno did choke.

☼

The days that followed their dinner were strange for Renjun. Strange in that while, yes, he was still bumping into Jeno at the pool or in town, their interactions seemed less awkward, less strained, and almost – but only _almost_ – friendly. Renjun could still feel the guilt swirling uncomfortably in his stomach every time he answered Jaemin’s texts, purposefully neglecting to say whether or not he would be accompanied on his daily excursions.

Most mornings, they would (accidentally) meet at the breakfast buffet, greeting each other with tired but sincere smiles. After a short breakfast, they would part ways but usually ended up meeting again at one point or another throughout the day.

The sixth day of the vacation, almost one whole week in, was where things started to go downhill for Renjun.

The late June sun scorched down on the sand and Renjun felt the soles of his feet burn slightly as he and Jeno walked along the small, but quite crowded beach. The previous day marked the first occasion on which they had actually made plans together after they discovered that the beach was of particular interest to them both. (This had been a cause of conflict for Renjun, but one eye smile from Jeno had all but melted his resolve.)

Despite the size of the beach, they managed to find a spot just shy of the major crowds but not entirely secluded. It was several feet away from the screaming children, and that was good enough for Renjun.

“God, it’s hot,” Renjun groaned as he lowered himself onto his beach towel, squinting in the afternoon sunshine despite his sunglasses. Somewhere further down the beach a child screamed a laugh, chasing their siblings into the sea. Maybe they could do with sitting a little further away.

“I think my skin’s going to melt off,” Jeno agreed, chucking his book onto his own towel before gripping the bottom of his shirt and doing the one thing that made Renjun realise how full-forcedly his attraction to the younger man had returned.

Unfortunately for Renjun (or perhaps fortunately depending on his mood), today was not suitable for even the thinnest of fabrics, his own shirt already glued to his skin with sweat. Jeno seemed to be having the very same problem and within seconds his shirt was nowhere to be seen and in its place was a whole lot of skin.

Renjun was no stranger to shirtless men. At times, he himself was a shirtless man. Right now, Lee Jeno was also a shirtless man, and Renjun’s mouth felt very dry. There was a difference between a shirtless man, and an attractive shirtless man. Jeno was very much the latter - Jeno, who was all broad chest and rippling abs and strong arms. Renjun couldn’t look away, his eyes fixated on every inch of Jeno’s bare torso and suddenly Renjun felt very warm. It was probably just the heat. Probably. Most likely. Maybe. In an attempt to distract himself, Renjun twisted the cap off his bottle of water and took a healthy gulp, the ice-cold liquid helping to cool him down just a bit.

“I’m going in,” Jeno announced, gesturing in the direction of the sparkling water. “Want to join?”

“Maybe later,” Renjun shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance, before picking up his book and opening it on a random page. Jeno only nodded before jogging towards the shore and Renjun found his eyes betraying him, straying from the words on the page (not that he had really been concentrating in the first place) and landing on Jeno’s back. Renjun needed another drink of water. Maybe a bucket of it.

It was difficult for Renjun to focus on his book after that, but he forced himself to read the words over and over again if only to avoid looking out to sea where Jeno was still floating in the azure water.

After only a few more torturous minutes of attempted reading, Renjun threw his book down with a huff and stripped himself of his own shirt, accidentally dropping it into the sand. He could worry about that later. At this rate he’d probably be finding sand in his things six months from now. Jaemin probably wouldn’t be very pleased about that, but as of now, Jaemin was the least of Renjun’s worries.

Taking a deep breath, Renjun slowly made his way towards the water, hot sand slipping between his toes until he reached the shoreline, where it began to stick to his feet. He could see Jeno paddling a little further out, so into the water Renjun went, shuddering a little as the surprisingly cool water lapped against his skin. He watched as his legs sliced through the clear water, strands of seaweed brushing gently against them like tiny octopus tentacles.

“Renjun!” Jeno called, waving an arm about as the younger approached. Renjun drew his eyes from the slimy ribbons, redirecting his gaze to where Jeno stood in the water, the waves lapping gently against his waist.

Renjun suddenly couldn’t breathe. His lungs and heart squeezed painfully and he was completely and utterly _fucked_ , because how did he never realise this before. As Jeno stood in front of him, dark hair slicked back with sea water, skin glistening in the sun, making him look like some sort of majestic mercreature, Renjun _did_ realise. He realised that there had been a reason why he’d always been so awkward around Jeno. He realised that there had been a reason why he avoided the flat when Jaemin had Jeno over. He realised that there had been many reasons for many things for many months, and all it took was this fucking vacation that wasn’t even meant to be his in the first place.

Renjun wanted to just let the sea take him. He couldn’t do this anymore. Everything was so wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be here with Jeno. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. So, he did the one thing any rational person would do in such a situation – Renjun ignored Jeno’s voice, calling his name, and ran.

☼

By the time Renjun made it back to the hotel, guilt swirled uncomfortably in his stomach like the beginnings of a terrible decision induced hangover. He felt nauseous and his head pounded in the hazy heat and all he could smell was the brininess of the sea. Jeno was probably still down at the beach, confused as to why Renjun had rushed off without explanation. But that was the thing – Renjun couldn’t explain. Rather, he didn’t _want_ to. It would be humiliating to admit it. The fact that this was all to do with Jaemin’s ex made it so much worse. 

Renjun made a decision as he stood under the cool water of the shower. He would tell Jaemin. He would tell Jaemin that Jeno was here, and that Renjun hadn’t really done all that much to avoid him. He’d tell Jaemin everything.

Everything, except from the realisation that his feelings towards Jeno were not that of hatred. Not at all.


	2. i cry on the dancefloor, it's so embarrassing

Jaemin wasn’t exactly known for his ability to keep a boyfriend. In all the years that Renjun had known Jaemin, his best friend had never dated any of his boyfriends for more than a week or two, maybe a month at most.

Well, that was until Lee Jeno came into the picture. 

Renjun was ashamed to admit that ever since the beginning of Jaemin’s relationship with Jeno, he had been counting down the days until it ended. Not in some sick and twisted sense of hopefulness – he hadn’t wanted them to break up, just like how he hadn’t wanted Jaemin to end up broken hearted when all of his other boyfriends inevitably ended it sooner rather than later.

That was the thing, you see. Jaemin was never the heartbreaker, and always the heartbroken. Renjun didn’t have enough fingers on his hands to count the number of times he had stumbled upon a crying Jaemin, miserable and hurt after the end of yet another failed relationship. Renjun would always do his duty as Jaemin’s best friend, holding him close and telling him that he deserved far better than whatever those guys could give him.

It never really mattered in the end, though. Not because Jaemin was ungrateful for Renjun’s acts of comfort, but rather, he got over his broken heart almost as quickly as he found his next boyfriend. Jaemin’s recovery period in between relationships would have been impressive to Renjun if he hadn’t been the one to help clean up the pieces every time.

So, when Renjun observed Jaemin and Jeno as they started dating with a watchful eye, it wasn’t because he was wishing for it to end or anything as deceitful. No. He was preparing himself for the inevitable fall out that would incur when it all came crashing down.

But then, as the relationship continued with no signs of it ending, Renjun began to let his guard down. He stopped watching Jeno with narrowed eyes, eyes that hid not only his suspicion, but probably a sliver of attraction too (not that he’d ever admit to the latter). Jaemin seemed happy, so Renjun let himself relax. He stopped infiltrating their movie nights, stopped third wheeling on study dates, stopped “accidentally” barging into Jaemin’s room when the couple were alone together.

Some would argue that Renjun had been too involved in the past, too possessive of his best friend, but Renjun would argue that it was just his protective instincts kicking in more than anything else. When Jaemin’s relationship with Jeno continued to lengthen, Renjun let his instincts weaken, pushing them to the back of his mind. Jaemin didn’t only seem happy – he _was_ happy. And that was a good enough reason for Renjun to loosen his grip.

Until the inevitable happened.

It caught Renjun off-guard. Arriving home to the sound of Jaemin’s heartbroken sobs had come as a surprise to Renjun. It shouldn’t have. It should have been something he had seen coming. It was _supposed_ to have been something he had seen coming. But it wasn’t. Renjun had been so sure that this was it for Jaemin, that this was the end of his failed relationship saga.

In the end, it turned out that Jeno was just another chapter, another name to add to Renjun’s hit list.

And that’s why, when Jaemin cried to him about the breakup, Renjun felt like crying too. Not only because he felt sad for his friend (because he most certainly did), but because he felt incredibly guilty. Because he felt something so horrendous flow through him at the news.

Because Renjun had felt… relieved.

☼

To no one’s surprise, least of all Renjun’s, he spent the day following his unfortunate revelation avoiding Jeno as much as possible. It wasn’t the easiest of tasks, but Renjun had found that resigning himself to his room for most of the day was an effective solution, albeit a somewhat boring one. He spent his day waking late, reading and sipping coffee on the balcony and sneaking down to the buffet just before closing to sneak the remaining food up to his room. It was a miserable existence in such a beautiful place, but Renjun wasn’t exactly known for his rational thinking at times of crisis – this entire situation certainly qualified as such in his books.

Unfortunately, Renjun’s avoidance tactic didn’t last nearly as long as he had hoped it would, when everything came crashing down on just the second day.

Renjun was lounging on the balcony, enjoying the shade it provided in the height of the afternoon sun, when the phone sitting next to his bed rang shrilly in the quiet of the room. With a sigh, Renjun sat down the book he had been reading and hobbled into the room barefooted, hissing as the sun-heated tiled floor burned the soles of his feet.

He picked up the phone just as it was about to let out its last ring, greeting the caller with a breathless “Hello”.

“Good afternoon, Mr Huang.” The voice was a woman, pleasant and polite. Renjun assumed she was from reception. “I was just calling to ask if you were still interested in the massage you had booked in for today?”

Renjun frowned, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. This was probably something Jaemin had signed up for all those months ago. He couldn’t stop the familiar feeling of guilt that twisted in his gut every time he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be here, that this meant to be for Jaemin.

Then again, Jaemin had been the one to convince Renjun to get on that flight in the first place. He hadn’t stolen anything away from his best friend. If anything, this was a gift to Renjun.

“Mr Huang? Are you still there?”

Renjun startled out of his thoughts, flushing embarrassedly even though the woman couldn’t see him.

“Yes, that’s fine,” he answered quickly before he could talk himself out of it. In all fairness, he had been holing himself up in his room for several days. It would probably do him some good to get out for a while, even if it _was_ just to get a massage.

“Fabulous!” the woman exclaimed, sounding far more excited than Renjun felt. “Someone will be waiting for you at four. They’ll meet you at reception.”

“Thank you.”

With a sweaty hand, Renjun placed the phone back in the receiver. He could admit that the prospect of a massage sounded nice. After three years of being a university student it was fair to say that his posture wasn’t exactly what it should be following hours spent crouched over a laptop, shoulders hunched as he pored over books he didn’t really understand. Just thinking about those days spent in the library, coffee-fuelled and anxiety-ridden, made him shudder, his neck tensing and his shoulders tightening. 

His phone told him that it was a little before four, giving him enough time to get down to reception a little earlier than necessary. Renjun was nothing if not punctual.

For a split second, he wondered what Jeno was doing, wondered where he was, wondered how he-

No. Absolutely not. No more Jeno. This was about Renjun now. From now on, this vacation would be for Renjun and Renjun only.

That thought lasted approximately five minutes until Renjun arrived at reception to find Jeno leaning against the front desk, wearing his usual black t-shirt and a friendly smile. Renjun stopped dead in his tracks. He needed to leave. Like, immediately.

Unfortunately, Jeno quickly caught sight of Renjun’s horrified figure, frozen still only a few feet away. The smile remained on Jeno’s face, any sign of him having noticed Renjun’s sudden disappearance nowhere to be found.

“Renjun! Where’ve you been? I didn't see you at all yesterday!”

Even Jeno’s voice sounded the picture of pure delight, friendly and unassuming. Renjun wanted to crack his own skull against the nearest wall.

“I, uh, I wasn’t feeling great,” he replied flatly, a sad excuse but not a complete lie. He _had_ spent the past twenty-four hours feeling like a complete and utter piece of shit, just not for the reasons Jeno probably presumed.

Jeno’s smile slipped slightly and his eyes filled with concern. Renjun hated that look, the kind that made Jeno seem like he cared.

“Is everything okay?” His eyes frantically flitted from Renjun’s face to his body as though he was searching for some visible sign of damage. Jeno’s gaze felt strangely scrutinising and Renjun couldn’t help the self-consciousness that crept into his thoughts. Jeno always managed to make every outfit look good. He could wear a plastic bag as a dress and Renjun would probably still swoon.

Renjun, on the other hand, felt small and grubby in his ratty basketball shorts and sleeveless shirt. He hadn’t considered the possibility that anyone would really be paying attention to him other than the masseuse, and even then, he wouldn’t be wearing much more than a towel to preserve his modesty. He hadn’t considered the possibility that he would bump into Jeno, which was rather silly of him, and on second thought, seemed to be far less of a coincidence than he had initially believed.

“Everything’s great,” Renjun lied, plastering an exaggerated smile on his face in the hopes that it would throw Jeno off whatever path he was beginning to head down. Renjun could admit that he was a fairly decent liar, but Jeno could only ask so many questions before he cracked. Having a weakness for handsome men with pretty smiles was the bane of Renjun’s very existence.

For a brief second Jeno frowned at Renjun’s reply, looking somewhat suspicious with his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. Renjun’s breath caught in his throat but he stared back resolutely, hoping his own eyes weren’t telling more than he wanted. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, Jeno’s frown disappeared and his eyes curved into their usual smile.

“Cool. You’re here for the massage too, right?”

Just when Renjun thought his afternoon couldn’t any worse, Jeno managed to prove him wrong.

“Uh, yeah,” Renjun replied, his voice far higher pitched than was probably socially acceptable. His face felt warm and his palms were starting to sweat. This entire situation was, quite frankly, a disaster. If Renjun didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he and Jeno were awaiting a _couples’_ massage. But Renjun knew better, of course.

Didn’t he?

☼

As it turns out, three years studying at university did not account for intelligence.

A man dressed completely in white had appeared at reception not moments after Renjun’s worst fear had come to mind, greeting both him and Jeno, before leading them through the hotel lobby and down several gleaming white corridors until they reached the spa. Initially Renjun had hesitated, his mind and heart torn in their simultaneous desires to go back to his room and live out the rest of his stay as a hermit, or stay and follow Jeno’s broad back as he sauntered after the man in white.

In the end, his heart won out and now Renjun was standing in a changing room dressed in nothing but his underwear and a fluffy white robe. Soothing instrumental music played softly through a hidden speaker and a stack of candles flickered warmly on a small table in the corner. Something was making the room smell faintly of lavender, but Renjun couldn’t find it in himself to relax, his veins thrumming with nervous tension. With slightly trembling hands, Renjun folded up his clothes and placed them on the wooden bench before choosing to sit down and wait for someone to come and fetch him.

Jeno had been taken into a separate changing room upon their arrival (small mercies), but unfortunately from what Renjun had gathered, this was not going to be a solo experience. It looked like Jaemin, in all his kind hearted generosity, had forgotten that couples vacations often entailed pre-booked couples activities that were a little difficult to explain your way out of when you didn’t speak the native language. Jeno on the other hand had seemed completely unfazed by the entire thing, simply smiling politely at the hotel staff as they ushered Renjun away to another room.

Renjun picked at a hangnail, fidgeting in the suffocating stillness of his changing room. He didn’t even have his phone to distract himself with, having left it up in his room filled with unopened texts from Jaemin. It had been two days since Renjun had made the decision to tell Jaemin about Jeno’s presence, but he had been unable to work up the courage to do so. He felt guilty every time his phone buzzed, signalling yet another incoming text from his best friend, but the thought of answering them – reading them, even – made Renjun feel sick to his stomach, so much so he’d stopped replying to everyone else’s texts too. Now, his phone was filled with a backlog of unanswered texts and Renjun was filled with a constant feeling of existential dread and guilt. He wasn’t entirely sure that this massage was going to help with any of the above.

A muffled knock sounded at the door. Assuming it to be one of the staff, Renjun tied the belt of his robe tighter and opened the door.

It wasn’t a member of staff.

It was Jeno. Renjun silently wondered if God had it out for him.

Jeno was wearing the same robe as Renjun, only Jeno’s belt wasn’t tied quite as securely as his, allowing the soft fabric to dip lower to reveal an unexpected amount of chiselled chest. Thankfully Renjun managed to catch himself before he choked on his own saliva.

“Hey, you ready?” Jeno asked, lowering his voice in a way that sounded far too attractive to poor, struggling Renjun, who felt like he was mere moments away from spontaneously combusting.

“Ready?” he choked out, clearing his throat awkwardly when his voice cracked on the last syllable. God, this was so embarrassing. Renjun was genuinely considering jumping on the next flight back home.

Jeno shot him an unreadable smile. “Well, I guess I kind of mean _un_ ready.”

Renjun let out a surprised laugh that sounded a little too loud in the current tranquil atmosphere. Jeno looked caught off guard by the sound, his eyes widening in a way that made him look a bit like a puppy. To be fair, Renjun would have probably looked just as shocked had Jeno done the same thing. It didn’t help that Renjun came across as quiet and collected most of the time, only ever letting loose when he had a little alcohol in his system. This time, however, he didn’t really have an excuse other than that he found Jeno’s shitty joke funnier than he should have.

Feeling more than a little embarrassed, Renjun bit back a grin, attempting to look somewhat composed. This day was shaping up to be one of the worst of Renjun’s life and if this was the trajectory events were taking, it was only going to get worse.

Just as Renjun was about to speak, the man from before appeared, a friendly smile plastered on his face as he signalled for the two men to follow him. An unexpected warmth enclosed Renjun’s wrist and he looked down to find Jeno’s hand clamping down on his skin, not letting Renjun get a word in before he was dragging him down the hallway.

Oh, this was bad. This was very bad. Jeno had made a huge mistake and Renjun was suffering from it. Renjun was suffering because now he knew what it was like to _almost_ hold hands with Jeno, which seemed so much worse than knowing how it felt to _actually_ hold his hand. It was worse because now Renjun was going to spend the rest of his days wondering and imagining and thinking, but never actually _knowing_.

His mouth felt dry and his body felt practically immobile as Jeno led them down the dimly lit hallway to where the man stood, holding a door open that let warm light pour out.

At the last moment, Jeno turned around to face Renjun, the golden light making his skin glow prettily. Renjun felt nauseous. Then, Jeno made his worst mistake of the day.

He slipped his hand from Renjun’s wrist until their palms were touching, until his fingers were intertwined with Renjun’s limp ones.

Oh, this was so much worse than anything Renjun could have ever imagined. Jeno’s hand was warm and soft and comforting and oh so terrible. Renjun wanted to rip his hand out of Jeno’s grip, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have the willpower. It was humiliating, really, how easily Renjun melted into Jeno’s touch. He was ashamed of himself, not only because he wasn’t pulling away, but for letting Jeno touch him the first place. He should’ve known that the feeling of Jeno’s skin against his own would be nothing short of earth-shattering. He should’ve known that his throat would close up, stopping him from saying a single word. He should’ve known that his heart would stutter, playing a staccato beat that thumped in his chest.

“C’mon, they’re waiting,” Jeno murmured softly, completely oblivious to the crisis Renjun was experiencing inside his own head. He gave Renjun’s hand one single squeeze before dropping it, turning around and walking through the open door.

In that moment, Renjun decided that if he ever made it out of this vacation alive, he would make it his life’s mission to avoid Jeno until the day he died.

☼

Just as Renjun had dreaded, Jaemin had indeed booked a couples’ massage, which entailed pretty much exactly what Renjun had pictured.

He and Jeno had been instructed to strip down to their underwear (a task that had left Renjun blushing right down to his boxers) before they could lie face down on the massage tables. The room had been similar to the changing room, with gentle music and lightly scented candles filling every corner. Two massage tables sat in the centre of the room, side by side, with not more than a foot or two of space between them. Upon entering, the sight had made Renjun feel strangely lightheaded. It was that, the heady scent of the candles or the fact that Jeno was shirtless. Again. Fortunately, Renjun managed to avoid looking at Jeno long enough to miss seeing him in nothing but his boxers.

The two masseuses had then proceeded to do their job – excellently, may Renjun add – which lasted far longer than he had expected but not nearly as long as he had wanted. The one mercy of the entire experience was that Renjun didn’t have to look at Jeno at all throughout it. Apparently, Jaemin had been somewhat of a cheapskate, choosing the least expensive option on the list of massages: the back massage. All in all, though, it ended up being a pretty relaxing experience. At one point, Renjun had felt himself almost drifting off to sleep until the masseuse reached a particularly nasty knot just above his shoulder blade.

In fact, the worst part of the whole thing didn’t come until _after_ the massage. Once every inch of his back had been smothered in some sort of scented oil and massaged until Renjun was so loose limbed he felt like jelly, their time was up. His masseuse had handed him his robe with a polite smile that Renjun returned, because _thank god_ he did not want to be half naked in front of three other men for any longer than he needed to be. That was when he had made the mistake of looking up.

Jeno’s massage had just finished moments after Renjun’s and he had his back turned to Renjun as he gratefully reached for his own robe. Renjun felt his mouth grow as dry as it had that day on the beach. Somehow he conveniently forgotten that, whilst men with muscular shoulders looked great at the best of times, they looked significantly better when their skin glistened, slicked with water or lotion or – in this particular case – massage oil.

Renjun had let his eyes wander for a moment, taking in the sight in front of him with widened eyes for several seconds too long before he caught himself. What the fuck was he doing? When had he turned into such a creep? He never used to ogle shirtless men, not even the ones he had seen voluntarily. Why did Jeno have such an effect on him?

Thankfully, Jeno pulled on his robe only a second or two later, swiftly covering the skin Renjun had been completely transfixed by. His face pink with shame, Renjun had quickly thanked the spa staff and sent Jeno a quick goodbye before speeding out of the room at lightning speed. He thought he had heard Jeno calling after him, but he had ignored it in favour of rushing back to his room.

He hadn’t let the tears fall until he had stepped under the cool water of the shower, watching as they disappeared down the drain.

☼

Somehow, as afternoon turned into evening, Renjun’s day managed to only get worse.

He had just stepped out of the bathroom when a knock sounded at the door. Dressed in nothing but his pyjama shorts and a t-shirt, Renjun opened it to find Jeno awaiting him for the second time that day. The only difference (apart from being fully dressed this time) was that Jeno had his suitcase clutched in his hand.

“There’s been a bit of a problem,” he began almost as soon as Renjun opened the door. Renjun didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before Jeno was already explaining himself.

“Apparently they mixed up the booking dates for the room I was staying in and the new guests are arriving tonight instead of next week.”

Renjun knew where this was going, and it wasn’t good.

“I hate to ask,” Jeno sighed, a sincerely apologetic look on his face, “but I don’t really have anywhere else to go. All of the other rooms are full, and I can’t really afford to go looking for somewhere else-”

“Okay.”

Jeno’s mouth clamped shut as he stared at Renjun with a mixture of bewilderment and relief.

“Don’t just stand there, come on in,” Renjun muttered, opening the door wider and gesturing for Jeno to enter.

This scenario was playing out so wildly different to the last time it happened. For starters, this time Renjun was angrier at himself than he was at Jeno, still not having forgiven himself for his behaviour earlier that day. Secondly, the thought of Jeno having to scour the coastline for somewhere else to stay actually made Renjun feel bad rather than celebratory. Thirdly, Renjun was surprising himself with how much he wanted Jeno to stay.

“Thanks a lot, Renjun,” Jeno said once his suitcase was stuffed in beside the wardrobe and his trainers were sitting beside Renjun’s sandals. “I know this is probably an inconvenience to you, but it means a lot to me.”

_It means a lot to me._

The words rang in Renjun’s head like a bell, loud and clear. Ironically, they meant a lot to Renjun. Too much.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, thanks anyway” Jeno smiled as he dropped onto the couch. He seemed to ponder something for a moment, a frown creasing the skin between his eyebrows. Then: “If you haven’t eaten yet do you, uh, do you want to get room service? I don’t mind paying.”

They hadn’t properly eaten together since the night that Renjun had bumped into Jeno at the restaurant. Sometimes they would see each other at the buffet, but they very rarely stayed long enough to eat dinner together. Renjun knew that he was overthinking the entire thing, but the thought of eating dinner with Jeno – _alone_ – sent his mind reeling.

“Um, sure,” is what he ended up saying, cursing himself for being unable to say no to Jeno, who was watching him with gentle eyes and a careful smile – both of which immediately lit up at Renjun’s reply.

“Great, what do you want?”

Dear god, Renjun was completely and utterly fucked.

☼

Halfway through their meal, Renjun began to well and truly panic.

The two of them were sitting on the huge bed, plates of food resting between them, and Jeno was laughing at something Renjun had said. The French doors were open, letting in a gentle summer breeze that brushed his face and ruffled Jeno’s hair across his forehead. Renjun wanted to reach over and brush it with his fingers.

That was the moment he realised how normal this all felt. Eating dinner with Jeno. Chatting with Jeno. Laughing with Jeno. All of these things had managed to work their way seamlessly into Renjun’s life, so much so, that he had barely noticed he was even letting it happen.

And that was the scariest part.

Renjun wasn’t supposed to let things get this far. He was supposed to have pretended that Jeno didn’t exist the second he walked out the door on their first day. He was supposed to have left the moment he recognised Jeno in that restaurant. He was supposed to have never agreed to go to the beach that day.

He kept on doing things that he wasn’t supposed to do, and the fact that he couldn’t find it in himself to stop terrified Renjun.

“Hey, um, I hate to seem like I’m not grateful for everything,” Jeno started, his voice wary. “But, is there any way we could figure out sleeping arrangements that don’t leave me hanging off the end of the sofa every night?”

Renjun froze.

Was Jeno asking what he thought he was asking?

Was Jeno asking if they could share the bed?

Out of the corner of his eye, Renjun noticed the screen of his phone light up. It gave him an idea.

“Can I just go pee really quick?” Renjun rushed out, not really waiting around for Jeno to answer before he slipped off the bed, hastily grabbing his phone in the process.

He slammed the door shut behind him, closed the toilet seat and sat down as he frantically pressed the call button.

The first time, there was no answer.

Nor the second time.

On the third try, Renjun’s call was finally answered.

“Jesus, Jun, what’s happened? Has someone died? Are you in hospital? Did you finally succumb to your peanut allergy?”

Renjun frowned at Donghyuck’s greeting, biting his nails anxiously.

“What the fuck, Hyuck, I’m not allergic to peanu-” he cut himself off, because this is exactly the reaction Donghyuck was looking for and Renjun did not have time for this. “Look, that’s beside the point – I’m having an emergency! Like a real life crisis!”

“And you had to call me at the ass crack of dawn for this?”

To be completely honest, Renjun had forgotten about the time difference, but he didn’t really care about that at the moment.

“Yes, you absolute spatula,” he seethed into the phone as quietly as he could.

Donghyuck let out a tired groan. Renjun almost felt bad for waking him up. Almost. “What could possibly be so bad that you’ve had to call _me_ for help? Like, a literal donkey would be a better option. Why didn’t you just call Jaemin?”

“Because I can’t,” Renjun whined. “Not for this.”

Donghyuck paused for a moment, and Renjun was left to fester in a tense silence that prickled his skin and squeezed at his lungs. He was seriously panicking and Donghyuck’s lack of response wasn’t doing much to alleviate his anxiety.

“Does your emergency have something to do with Jeno?”

Renjun’s eyes widened in horror. Was Donghyuck psychic?

“Um, yeah.”

Donghyuck hummed. “I thought as much.”

“What?” Renjun’s voice sounded squeaky and panicked, like a mouse about to be eaten by a cat.

“You do know that I’m, like, friends with Jeno, don’t you?” Donghyuck pointed out. “He tells me stuff. More than you tell me, that’s for sure. I didn’t even know you were going to Italy until you sent me that picture from the bus.”

“Not important right now, Hyuck!” Renjun hissed. He was trying to keep his voice down because Jeno was _right outside_ , but his friend was making it increasingly difficult to do so.

“Look, what I’m trying to tell you is that I know Jeno is there too. So, how bad is it?”

For a moment, Renjun considered asking just exactly _how_ Donghyuck knew that when even Jaemin didn’t, but again – he did not have time for this.

“Really bad,” Renjun groaned, collapsing against the cistern in defeat. “Like worse than you can imagine.”

“Did you get an awkward boner when you saw him shirtless? Those are the worst.”

Renjun was the one to go silent this time, his face flushing with shame.

“Oh my god, you so did!” Donghyuck giggled, his laughs crackling slightly through the poor signal. “I am never going to let you live this down.”

Renjun was very much aware of that. When he returned to Korea, he would be pre-emptively digging his own grave, just so it was ready when the time was right. That time was hopefully sooner rather than later.

“Shut up, Hyuck. That is not my current predicament.” Renjun had decided ignoring the truth rather than denying it was the best course of action. “Now can you _please_ , for the love of god, tell me how I’m supposed to deal with having to share a bed with my best friend’s ex-boyfriend!”

“Oh.” For once, Donghyuck seemed genuinely speechless. “This… this is bad. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Renjun heaved a sigh. “ _Thank you_.”

“But wait, haven’t you already been there for like a week? Why is this just becoming a problem now? Is it the boner thing?” Donghyuck gasped. “You haven’t developed an erectile disfunction, have you?”

“No this has literally nothing to do with my penis, and everything to do with the fact that I am going to have to share a bed with Jeno, who recently broke up with Jaemin, who – by the way - doesn’t even know Jeno’s here. I’m literally being eaten alive by guilt.”

Renjun felt slightly breathless after his rant, but anxiety didn’t often account for the comfort of your lungs. Or your ability to breath at all.

“Okay, we have a few options here. One, you jump off the balcony.” Donghyuck chose to ignore Renjun’s scoff of disbelief. “Two, make Jeno sleep on the balcony. I can’t say that he doesn’t exactly deserve it. Three,” he paused, most likely for dramatic effect, “just suck it up and share the damn bed. God isn’t going to come down and smite you just because you’ve ended up in a predicament that - might I add - is almost entirely out of your control.”

Renjun felt like he was moments away from having a full on breakdown.

“But Hyuck, I can’t _do_ that. It’s-” Renjun floundered to find the words as his mind tried to catch up, eventually settling on: “It’s not right.”

“Junnie, you have done far worse things in your life than innocently share a bed with your best friend’s ex.” Then, Donghyuck laughed, as though he had just thought of a funny joke. “It’s not as if you’re going to have sex with him.”

Renjun barely had time to stop his answer before it was already tumbling out of his mouth.

“I want to.”

Donghyuck made a strange gurgling sound that made Renjun think he had just choked on his own saliva. “What?”

“I… I _like_ him, Hyuck,” Renjun confessed miserably. “I have a big fat crush on him, and its messing with my head.”

He could hear Donghyuck sighing on the other end of the line. He probably hadn’t been prepared to wake up so early to play therapist for one of his best friends.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“I don’t know,” Renjun shrugged. “Halloween? I mean, I don’t think I’ve _liked_ him since then, but I definitely thought he was, like, attractive.”

“Halloween?” Donghyuck practically screeched. “ _That_ Halloween? The one where he caught you sucking face with a vampire?”

Renjun’s reply was nothing more than a weak “Yes.”

“How does this keep getting worse?” Donghyuck all but wailed, his voice shrill in Renjun’s ear.

“You are terrible at this. I don’t even know why I called you.”

“I warned you.” Donghyuck sounded an awful lot like a child saying _I told you so_. “I once managed to convince Mark to shave his head, even though we both knew it was going to look shit. All I can offer is some mediocre comedic commentary and absolutely zero helpful advice whatsoever.”

“I kind of expected this, but I just felt like I needed to talk to someone,” Renjun muttered, massaging the tension from his temple. “I’m going crazy over here. It’s just that… he’s _everywhere_ , _all_ of the time. Just when I think that everything’s starting to go back to normal – boom, there he is, shirtless and smiling and nice and hot and-”

“Fuck, you’ve got it bad, Junnie.”

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

“Look, I know this is going to sound like terrible advice, even worse than usual, but…” Donghyuck trailed off, letting out a thoughtful exhale. “You need to tell Jaemin. I can tell that this entire situation is eating you up inside. Not just your current emergency, but like, everything. You need to talk to him about _his_ fuck ups too.”

“Fuck ups?” Renjun frowned again. Had Jaemin done something wrong?

“Yeah, the fact that he always relies on you for everything? Ditches you the minute he gets a boyfriend, and then comes crying to you as soon as things don’t work out?” Donghyuck was right. That did sound familiar. “It’s not fair. Not on you, and not on himself either. The fact that neither of you ever talk about it just makes it worse. I really don’t want my two best friends to end up resenting each other over a _man_. Even if that man is Jeno. _Especially_ if that man is Jeno.”

Renjun didn’t know what to say for a moment, Donghyuck having shocked him into silence. Everything he had said was true, Renjun knew that - he had known that for months - but it was still a hard pill to swallow.

“You know, Hyuck, for someone who claims to give shit advice, you’re not half bad at it.”

Donghyuck snorted. “Please do not inflate my ego any more than it needs to be. I’m already insufferable, I don’t think any of you could handle it if I got too big-headed.”

Renjun let out a laugh. It sounded a little pathetic, a little too forced, but Donghyuck wouldn’t mind. He was a good friend.

“I guess I should probably figure out what to do. I’ve been in here so long Jeno probably thinks I’m taking the biggest dump known to man.”

“Yeah go get your mans, or whatever the kids say these days. Or, like, don’t. I can’t tell you what do. I’ve got your back either way.”

“Thanks, Hyuck.”

“I have work in a few hours, but if you need any more unhelpful advice or jokes about your broken penis, just let me know.”

“Will do,” Renjun deadpanned, swiftly hanging up and cutting off Donghyuck’s amused cackle before it even began.

Renjun sighed as he stuffed his phone into the pocket of his pyjama shorts. His conversation with Donghyuck hadn’t exactly been helpful towards his current predicament, but it had certainly been enlightening. He knew that he needed to talk to Jaemin, had known it since he’d seen Jeno at the airport, but if he did he’d have to tell his best friend everything. Including the whole feelings part. Renjun wasn’t sure if he was ready for that just yet.

With one final deep breath, Renjun pushed down on the door handle and walked back into the bedroom. Jeno was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, but he looked up when he noticed that Renjun was standing awkwardly by the bed.

“Hey,” Jeno greeted softly, locking his phone and dropping it onto the seat beside him. For some reason, Renjun felt strangely nervous about having Jeno’s full attention focused solely on him.

“Hey,” Renjun replied, fiddling with his hands in a way he knew betrayed his nerves.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it was just Hyuck. He wanted my advice on trying to convince Mark into letting them get a kitten. I managed to talk him out of it.”

Renjun was surprised he managed to get the lie out with a steady voice because his skeleton currently felt like it was about to separate itself from his body with how jittery he felt.

“That’s probably for the best,” Jeno laughed, but something about his smile told Renjun that he didn’t fully believe the lie. It was a well-known fact that Donghyuck loved cats, but it certainly wouldn’t take him twenty minutes to talk him out of adopting one.

The two drifted into an awkward silence unlike anything they had experienced the entire holiday.

“Is it okay if-”

“Do you want to-”

Jeno chuckled awkwardly and Renjun nervously bit his lip. This was not going well, whatever _this_ was.

“You go first,” Jeno offered, the only tell-tale of his own nervousness being the redness of his ears. Renjun felt oddly endeared by the sight, but he didn’t let his thoughts linger.

“I, uh, I just wanted to ask if you were alright with… with sleeping together?”

Jeno’s eyes widened to the size of golf balls and Renjun’s face immediately went up in flames, realising what that had sounded like.

“N-not like that!” he spluttered, feeling more embarrassed in this one moment than he had in his entire life combined. “I just meant that, well, the couch is kind of small and uncomfortable. We could swap if you’d prefer, but I just thought that…”

Renjun trailed off, feeling suitably humiliated. He shouldn’t have just assumed that Jeno would be okay with sharing a bed. It was presumptuous of him, and honestly a little selfish because Renjun would be lying if he didn’t admit that he liked the idea a little more than was appropriate.

“We can share,” Jeno blurted, interrupting Renjun’s spiralling train of thought. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh. Cool,” Renjun replied lamely, feeling decidedly _un_ cool. He had been in far more statistically embarrassing situations, but this seemed to be a rising contender for first place.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, unmoving as they both stared at the bed like it was a dragon awaiting to be awoken from a centuries-long slumber.

“Are you tired?” Jeno asked eventually. Renjun couldn’t pinpoint the tone of his voice, so he decided to do what he did best. Lie.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna head to bed,” he sighed, forcing a yawn as he shuffled towards the side he had silently claimed as his own. “You can stay up if you want, I don’t mind.”

“Nah, I’m pretty beat too,” Jeno sighed, surprising Renjun because _what the fuck_ he was not ready to do this just yet. From what Jaemin had told him, Jeno was a complete and utter night owl. Like, the kind that eats an entire three course meal at midnight and stays up until five in the morning binge watching Netflix. This had literally been the least strenuous day of Jeno’s life, so why was he going to sleep at _eleven_?

Ruffling the back of his hair, Jeno sauntered into the bathroom and shut the door gently behind him, giving Renjun approximately five minutes to freak out.

He considered calling Donghyuck again, but that would probably just freak him out even more because the younger boy would definitely say something about Renjun’s dick, and he did _not_ need that right now.

The sound of the toilet flushing sent Renjun into a frenzy as he frantically shoved back the bedsheets with far more force than necessary and jumped into bed hard enough to make the mattress bounce. He had just managed to get the covers up to his neck in time for Jeno leaving the bathroom, who was humming under his breath as he switched off the light.

“You don’t have, like, a preferred side or anything, do you?” Renjun asked as he watched Jeno plug his phone into charge. It was kind of a pointless question because Renjun had obviously already taken the liberty of claiming the right side, but he supposed it couldn’t hurt to be polite.

“Uh, no. I’m not fussed,” Jeno shrugged, padding over to the bed dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Renjun’s mouth felt a little dry at the sight, so he distracted himself by leaning over to switch off the bedside lamp. Suddenly the room was plunged into semi-darkness, the only thing lighting the room being the lamp on Jeno’s side of the bed.

Renjun tried to ignore the pounding of his heart as Jeno peeled back the covers and slid in, the bed dipping under his weight in a way that forced Renjun closer to the middle of the mattress. He could feel the warmth radiating from Jeno’s body, all too hot in the confined space of the bed. He smelled nice too, Renjun realised. Like clean cotton, cool and fresh. The bed dipped again when Jeno reached across to switch off his lamp, and then, they were in complete and utter darkness broken only by the vague twinkles of light shining through the sheer curtains of the French doors.

“Good night, Renjun,” Jeno’s voice whispered. Renjun had to repress a shiver from creeping up his spine at the sound.

“Night, Jeno,” he whispered back, hoping that his own voice didn’t sound nearly as nervous as he felt.

Then it was silent.

Renjun could tell that Jeno was still awake, just like he could tell that Jeno knew he wasn’t sleeping either. A tense stiffness plagued both of their bodies as they lay there, side by side, not ignoring one another, but not acknowledging the fact that they were both awake either. For a moment, Renjun panicked that Jeno had noticed his staring earlier, that he was the reason for the unfamiliar tension between them. He hadn’t meant to look, not really, and he’d tried to be subtle when he did, but maybe Jeno had seen him looking and thought that Renjun was some weird, perverted creep who’d never seen another shirtless man before. Maybe Renjun _was_ some weird, perverted creep. It was pretty weird to be lusting over your best friend’s ex, but it was probably even weirder of him to have developed feelings for said ex.

This entire vacation was turning into the embodiment of every single one of Renjun’s worst dreams combined and he didn’t really know what to do. He felt so unbelievably out of control and it seemed like there was nothing he could do to fix it.

“I can practically hear you thinking.”

Renjun startled at the unexpected sound of Jeno’s voice cutting through the silence. He hadn’t noticed how hard he’d been thinking, but it was hard enough for him to have completely lost touch with his surroundings. 

“Sorry,” Renjun muttered sheepishly, his gaze fixed on the ceiling above them.

Jeno snorted a laugh. “Don’t apologise, you’re not doing anything wrong. I was just wondering if everything was okay. If _you’re_ okay.”

In all honesty Renjun kind of felt like crying, but he wasn’t going to let Jeno know that.

“I’m fine,” he replied, his voice low because Renjun felt like he’d be disrupting something if he spoke any louder.

“You sure?” Jeno asked, sounding strangely kind, strangely knowing. Renjun didn’t want to find out what it was that he knew. “You know, you can talk to me if anything’s worrying you. I’m a pretty good listener.”

Well, there was no chance _that_ was ever going to happen.

“Really, Jeno, I’m good. Just tired,” Renjun sighed, which wasn’t entirely false. He was tired. He was tired of thinking so much. He was tired of worrying. He was tired of feeling guilty.

The whole point of this vacation was that Renjun could have a chance to relax, but it had ended up having the complete opposite effect. Now, Renjun was stressed to no end and had a crush the size of Donghyuck’s head on the one person he definitely shouldn’t, neither of which had been huge problems just a week and a half before.

“You should get some rest.”

Renjun just hummed noncommittally before rolling over to face the French doors and pressing his face into the pillow. He heard Jeno let out a sigh of his own, one that sounded strangely dejected, but neither of them seemed willing to comment on it.

It took almost an hour of Renjun staring at the curtains for him to eventually drift off to sleep. When he did, Jeno was still awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!
> 
> i just want to quickly thank you for being so patient. i've been really busy with uni the past few months so finding time to write anything new was pretty difficult. anyway, i hope you enjoyed this chapter! i don't know how it's at almost 8k words when not all that much happened, but i hope you liked it nonetheless. because of the length of this chapter, i've added an extra one so this fic will now consist of four chapters instead of the initial three :)
> 
> thank you so much for reading! any and all feedback is always appreciated <3


	3. get a little more close to me

The whole Jeno Predicament (yes, it now warranted capitalisation, and potentially even a patent) had forced Renjun to reconsider his past relationships, the other times he thought he had feelings for another person. Well, _feelings_ was probably too strong a word. Fleeting interest? Lust, maybe? The thought had only occurred to him now – _now_ , referring to his current romantic climate. The kind that brought gale-force pining with a dash of guilt-filled tear showers. Renjun couldn’t remember any of his past relationships being nearly so all-consuming – so stressful, so exhaustive – and he and Jeno weren’t even anywhere close to dating. This was so far off the coast of a relationship that Renjun felt like he was adrift in the middle of the ocean.

There had been that one girl back in first year. Yiren. She had long, shiny hair, a pretty nose and shared Renjun’s interest in art. Their first date had been at an art exhibition in a local museum, followed by mugs of hot chocolate at a nearby coffee house. The dates that followed soon blossomed into a relaxed relationship, but one that didn’t last as long as either Renjun or Yiren had hoped. Not even a month after their first date, Yiren had sent Renjun a long text informing him that he spent too much time worrying about his best friend’s complete and utter shambles of a love life instead of focusing on their own. At first, Renjun had been rather upset by Yiren’s text and had spent several minutes furiously typing out an entire paragraph in defence of Jaemin.

But, in the end, he was nothing if not rational. Yiren was right. Renjun couldn’t even begin count the number of dates cut short by SOS calls from a tearful Jaemin. After that, it didn’t take much persuasion on Yiren’s part for Renjun to agree to a breakup.

The relationships that followed ended in a similar manner but for far different reasons. Renjun had taken Yiren’s comment to heart and had started to actively try and change his attitude towards dating. Unfortunately, this ended up causing the opposite problem. He became a little too attentive, a little too invested in making things work. He hadn’t considered the fact that people nowadays didn’t want attachment. They didn’t want commitment. They didn’t want serious. No. They wanted casual, no-strings-attached, and Renjun couldn’t do that.

He’d loathe to admit it, but Renjun was a romantic through and through. He dreamed of flowers and chocolate, stargazing and sweet kisses, late nights and warm hands. Renjun wanted that romance movie kind of love, which was a whole other level of embarrassing and the reason why he kept that side of himself a secret. Jaemin assumed that Renjun didn’t date often because he wasn’t into relationships, didn’t like the affection and intimacy that came with them. Donghyuck thought it was because Renjun spent his time boring his dates with art history facts (although that was probably a targeted insult more than an educated observation).

Yangyang, on the other hand, didn’t have to assume anything. He _knew_. He knew because he also shared Renjun’s affinity for the cliches of romance. He knew because they had met on a date. With each other. It was perhaps Renjun’s best kept secret – that he and Yangyang had met through Tinder of all things. It was such a deeply buried secret that none of their other friends even knew it had happened. Jaemin, Donghyuck and Mark just assumed that Renjun had met Yangyang through his international student group. Not even in their wildest dreams could they have imagined anything near to the truth.

It had gone well - as well as Tinder dates can go - so much so they had decided to go on another one. And another. The problem had arisen (or rather, it _hadn’t_ ) nearer the end of the third date. Renjun had not expected things to go much further than a peck on the cheek or a quick hug goodbye, so when they had, he wasn’t quite prepared. It had been somewhat humiliating at first, the two of them sitting at opposite ends of Yangyang’s bed, awkwardly silent and shirtless. It had taken all of five minutes before the sound of Yangyang’s flatmate strumming a guitar and screeching severely off key for Renjun to burst out laughing with so much force he had ended up on the floor of Yangyang’s room, who didn’t take much longer to join him.

After that they had decided that even if dating wasn’t for them, being friends was, and thus Yangyang was introduced into their small circle following a seriously conditioned vow that they never speak a word about their short-lived romance to anyone. Ever.

All in all, it was fairly safe to say that Renjun’s choices in romantic partners were poorly timed at best and just downright questionable at worst, but he had never questioned any of them more than he was now.

Renjun wasn’t entirely sure what he had expected to wake up to.

Maybe an empty bed, the sound of Jeno in the shower disrupting the silence of the early hours of the morning as Renjun lounged in the warmth of the soft sheets. Or, maybe he and Jeno would have drifted into the middle of the bed during the night, waking up to find their legs tangled together in a way that left them both stuttering and blushing like in one of the shitty romcoms Renjun loved so much.

What Renjun had not at all considered was the possibility that he would wake up huddled on the floor whilst Jeno remained on the bed, sprawled across it like a giant starfish, sound asleep.

The minutes following his slow, drowsy awakening were filled with both confusion and physical discomfort. There was a sharp pain in his neck, his feet were cold and Renjun felt like he had been sleeping on a block of ice, the mattress hard beneath him and cool to the touch.

Except it wasn’t the mattress.

When Renjun’s sleep-addled brain finally registered that he was, in fact, lying on the floor, he merely gazed up at the bed in resignation. He vaguely recalled Jaemin complaining about Jeno being a restless sleeper, but he had never imagined it to be to this extent. Whilst Renjun was slumped uncomfortably on the floor, one end of a bedsheet tangled around his waist, Jeno slept on in a state of ignorant bliss, the length of his body stretched across the entire bed, leaving no room for anything even remotely Renjun-shaped.

Letting out an angry huff, Renjun pushed himself up off the floor, grabbed a cushion from the couch and, with all the grace of a toddler wearing heels, swung it at Jeno. The younger man let out a surprised yelp at the rude awakening, shooting up with bleary eyes and a befuddled frown.

“Did you just hit me?” Jeno grumbled, rubbing his eyes as Renjun hovered over him, pillow clutched incriminatingly in hand.

“No,” he deadpanned, too tired and sore to feel even remotely guilty about the offended look on Jeno’s irritatingly handsome face. No, really, who looked that good in the morning. It was unfair to everyone else. A criminal offense if Renjun had ever seen one.

“Well, I don’t think I just imagined it,” Jeno complained, staring up at Renjun with clearer eyes. Still, Renjun had a vendetta and his revenge-fuelled rampage had only just begun.

“Well, I don’t think I wanted to spend my night sleeping on a marble floor, but here we are.”

Renjun could see the moment realisation hit Jeno, his eyes widening and his mouth popping open in shock.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he spluttered eloquently as he scrambled to untangle himself from the bedsheets. “Di-did I push you off? I promise I didn’t mean to - I just move a lot in my sleep! I swear!”

Renjun repressed an amused snort. It was a little funny, watching Jeno go from sleep rumpled and grumpy to very much awake and relentlessly apologetic, but Renjun couldn’t let himself smile just yet. He was supposed to be irritated and vengeance hungry, not _endeared_.

“I didn’t think that you did it on purpose,” Renjun sighed, brow creasing as he watched Jeno linger helplessly beside him. He didn’t know what Jeno had planned to do, jumping out of bed with all the haste he had – it wasn’t as if Renjun was going to go back to sleep. Firstly, the sun was shining brightly through the French doors, so even if he wanted to sleep, Renjun couldn’t. Secondly, his stomach definitely required food if the quiet rumbling sounds were anything to go by. Lastly, Renjun was almost worried that if he did get back into bed, he’d be tempted to take Jeno with him.

“You could have warned me though,” Renjun added, trying not to blush.

“It honestly never crossed my mind,” Jeno frowned guiltily. “It probably would’ve been a good idea to tell you what I’m like in bed.”

Warmth flooded Renjun’s face, the rush of heat too great for him to even attempt to stop it at this point. The only thing that eased his embarrassment was Jeno, who didn’t seem to be fairing any better in the blush department himself.

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant!” he apologised hurriedly. “Not in… not in that way. I just-”

“It’s fine,” Renjun interrupted, his voice coming out a little croaky as he attempted to alleviate Jeno’s humiliation. “I knew what you meant.”

The silence that followed was not dissimilar to that of the previous night; one that was awkward, but strangely tense at the same time, pregnant with something unspoken, something secret. Renjun knew his own secret, but what was Jeno’s?

“I really am sorry,” Jeno repeated solemnly, and Renjun could tell he wasn’t just apologising for his wording, or even just for pushing him onto the floor during the night. It reminded Renjun of that evening in the restaurant.

_I really am sorry about this._

_I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable._

_I could always leave._

Jeno probably felt that he had a lot to apologise for. Renjun couldn’t exactly argue that he didn’t, but he’d be a hypocrite if he didn’t admit that he _also_ had a few things to apologise for, and even some people to apologise to.

As he was falling asleep the night before, Jeno’s warm body beside his own, Renjun had decided that he would phone Jaemin on his last day in Italy. That meant he had one more day. One more day to get his thoughts in order. One more day to plan how he was going to tell Jaemin everything.

One more day with Jeno.

His conversation with Donghyuck had been far more helpful than Renjun had initially thought.

Donghyuck had been right. Perhaps Renjun and Jaemin were too co-dependent. Perhaps Jaemin leaned on Renjun too often. Perhaps Renjun felt too guilty to say no. It wasn’t good for a friendship to be founded in dependency and guilt. It was even worse for such a friendship to crumble under the weight of one man.

Renjun hadn’t only decided to spill everything to Jaemin. He had also decided that, as soon as they parted ways at the airport, he would never see Jeno again. No matter how badly he wanted to. No matter how badly he felt he needed to.

One more day, and then Jeno would be gone from his life for good.

“It’s okay,” Renjun shrugged. The angry act had started to grow exhaustive. That, and he didn’t want to spend his remaining day with Jeno in a petty argument. “Just don’t do it again, and you won’t have to face the wrath of this pillow.”

Jeno’s eyes crinkled and a soft laugh fell from his mouth. Renjun practically swooned.

“I agree, it wasn’t the best way to wake up, but you definitely had it worse. Let me buy you breakfast as an apology?”

Renjun wanted to say no. He didn’t want to give his heart any more hope, lest it break the moment he deletes Jeno’s number from his phone. He needed to say no. Another memory of a meal spent with Jeno under the sunny rays of the Italian sky was not something Renjun should have. He had to say no.

Then again, it seemed that hearts never learned, particularly those of a hopeless romantic.

Renjun wanted to say no, but he couldn’t.

“Okay,” he nodded. “But it better be expensive, or I’ll push you off the balcony whilst you’re sleeping. See how you like it.”

Jeno’s answering smile was blinding, and Renjun was fucked.

☼

Breakfast was nice. Too nice. So nice, in fact, that Renjun’s deluded brain almost thought it was a date. _Almost_.

Jeno had taken him to a little café down one of the many cobbled side streets that sprawled the town, one with charmingly mismatched tables and chairs strewn outside, sheltered by a pretty, pastel blue awning. The coffee was good, and the platter of cheeses, salami and cured meat was even better. The sunlight was pleasant as it shone on Renjun’s skin, like a gentle caress from a warm hand. Across the little table, Jeno sipped contentedly on his own coffee, his eyes travelling the length of the narrow street and smiling to himself when a little girl ran by them, brandishing a huge cone of melting gelato.

Breakfast was nice, but something about it felt far too domestic for Renjun’s comfort. It didn’t feel like two friends on a casual, platonic coffee date. It didn’t even feel like breakfast with your best friend’s ex. Horrifically, Renjun felt like he was on a romantic date, and not even a first one at that. The way the conversation flowed, the lack of clumsiness, the easy atmosphere – all of it was far too reminiscent of a couple several dates in, and Renjun…

Renjun was terrified. This was the last time he’d ever see Jeno like this, and Renjun could already feel the cracks forming in his heart. He could already feel his mood dropping and his eyes stinging and his head hurting. Hell, he could practically taste the ice-cream Yangyang would need to buy for him before they watched _The Notebook_ because he was that kind of friend.

It was getting harder and harder for Renjun to say no. He had always thought that he was stubborn, firm in his beliefs to a fault at times, but now he wasn’t so sure. With each hour that passed, his resolve weakened, dissolving piece by piece like the granules of sugar in his coffee. His heart stuttered in his chest with every one of Jeno’s smiles and it was taking all of his strength not to reach across the table and take Jeno’s hand in his. Renjun knew how it felt now. Renjun knew that Jeno’s hands were soft and warm. Renjun knew that Jeno’s palms were smooth and that his fingers interlocked perfectly with his own.

It was both the best and worst thing to ever happen to Renjun.

The best, because it gave Renjun a small taste of what it was like to be with Jeno, to be wanted by Jeno. The worst, because Renjun now had that feeling ingrained in his memory and the thought of having to let it go was just as painful as heartbreak. It was a different kind of heartbreak, a self-inflicted variety caused by optimism and hopes and dreams. Renjun knew that sometimes he could come across as too quiet – mean, even. He was self-aware at the very least. He knew exactly how he felt even if others didn’t. He wasn’t emotionally constipated; he was just wary. Wary of letting other people in. Wary of letting people see the deepest, darkest, rawest parts of himself.

That’s why Jeno scared him. Because Renjun felt that wariness lessen each time their eyes met. He felt uncomfortably comfortable with Jeno, like he was willing to give up the walls he had built, the walls that kept him so guarded from everyone, friend and foe alike. It was a terrifying, all-encompassing feeling, and Renjun had never felt so helpless.

Somewhere off in the distance, the cheery, melodic sound of someone playing the accordion echoed through the air. The music was beautiful, sweet and hopeful, and Renjun had never felt so pathetic. Here he was, in one of the most beautiful places he had ever visited, moping about because he had let his love life transform into a looming shadow that followed him everywhere, no matter how hard he tried to hide. He wouldn’t have accepted Jaemin’s offer had he known he was going to spend his vacation like this. Maybe he should never have accepted it all.

“I don’t want to leave.”

Renjun almost dropped his mug of coffee. It was the first either he or Jeno had spoken since they’d finished their food. Jeno had probably just assumed that they were sitting in contented silence, admiring the surrounding architecture and the muffled music. What he didn’t know was that Renjun had spent his time rocketing into a whirlpool of existential crises and terminal dread. 

Now, he was spiralling even further because _what the fuck does Jeno mean?_ Renjun had never wanted to leave somewhere so badly in all his twenty years of existence. 

Had Jeno not at all – not even _once_ – considered the implications of literally everything that had transpired between them since they met at the airport back in Seoul? Renjun still hadn’t figured out why Jeno had even been there in the first place. Why would you choose to go on a vacation planned by your ex? On top of that, why would you go when they weren’t? It had made little sense to Renjun nine days ago, and it was making even littler sense now. The more he thought about it, the more his confusion grew.

And now, Jeno was saying that he didn’t want to leave?

“I can see why,” Renjun hummed instead, his tone light and amicable.

He was confused, but that didn’t mean he was going to be a dick. He had tried that already and hadn’t exactly been successful. He’d managed all of about three days before Jeno’s innocent eyes and playful smile melted the icy coldness of his heart. He hadn't even disliked Jeno to begin with, not really. He’d just felt that it was his duty as Jaemin’s best friend to follow some unwritten code about excommunicating past lovers, or something of the sort. Renjun concluded that he wasn’t a very good friend.

“It’s been nice, though,” Jeno continued, and the gentle look on his face had Renjun’s breath catching in his throat.

Jeno sounded so incredibly sincere, like he had actually enjoyed his time in Italy. Like he had actually enjoyed his time with Renjun.

Renjun nodded wordlessly, too overwhelmed by, well, everything to say anything other than what was bound to be a miserly confession at best. He had to keep reminding himself that this was not his to have – that Jeno was not his to have. He’d call Jaemin tonight, confess everything – even if he wasn’t feeling brave enough – and they’d talk things out because that’s how things worked with Jaemin. They didn’t argue. They didn’t ignore one another until someone broke.

Yet, Renjun had slowly begun to realise that holding things back and keeping secrets were just as bad as lying. He wondered, in all their years of friendships, if Jaemin had been keeping just as many secrets as he had.

“I, uh, it’s been nice,” Jeno repeated, suddenly sounding nervous. “Spending time with you, I mean.”

It felt like the world had stopped, time had frozen, and Renjun and Jeno were the only people left in the world. Renjun could no longer hear the accordion player or giggling children or the subdued clatter sounding from inside the café. His entire body felt like it had atrophied, veins, arteries, blood cells and all.

“Yeah.”

His voice sounded weak, a strangled croak that made him wince, but Jeno didn’t seem to notice, too busy fiddling with the handle of his empty coffee cup. Renjun wasn’t sure if he was agreeing with Jeno or returning the sentiment, but his brain was beginning to overheat as he tried to unpack the meaning of Jeno’s words. It wasn’t as though this was the first they’d ever spent time together. Granted, there were usually other people around when they interacted in the past, but Renjun had thought that they were somewhat friends before the breakup. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t remember how he was supposed to act around Jeno. He couldn’t remember what their dynamic had been like all those months ago, when Jeno would join their movie nights, bringing freshly baked pizza and tubs of strawberry cheesecake ice-cream. Renjun’s favourite. Jeno had always claimed that it was for himself to enjoy, but that hadn’t stopped him from rattling around the cutlery drawer and handing Renjun a spoon with a knowing smile. Renjun couldn’t remember how to be normal when Jeno was concerned, but now, the more he thought about it, he wondered if they had ever even had that: normality. Something about their friendship had always been different to Renjun, and only now was he realising that perhaps that may have had something to do with his feelings, the ones he had buried so deeply inside that it had taken months for even himself to uncover them.

But maybe, it hadn’t just been Renjun.

Maybe, just maybe, Jeno had been paying a little too much attention to him from the start.

As Renjun stared into his coffee cup, swirling around the last dregs, he tried to stop his hopes from lifting. It was silly of him, really, to believe that Jeno saw him as anything more than a friend and anything less than the friend of his ex, but he couldn’t help it. The ice cream. The olives. The smiles. The hand holding. All of it was throwing Renjun’s entire world on its axis and he had no idea how to stop it.

The sooner he spoke to Jaemin the better.

The sooner this was over, the sooner Renjun could go back to his life.

The sooner this was over, the sooner he could begin to forget about Jeno.

But, for now, Renjun was going to be selfish. For these last few hours, he’d let his brain delude itself.

So, when the awkward atmosphere cleared slightly, and Jeno asked if he could take them somewhere, Renjun couldn’t find it in himself to say no.

☼

Renjun couldn’t stop the surprised laugh that burst out of his mouth.

The walls inside the tiny room were plastered with a muddle of framed paintings, ranging from beautiful watercolour landscapes, to fiery sunsets, to charismatic portraits of strangers on the beach. They were all incredible, and Renjun’s eyes struggled to look at just one painting at a time, too excited and amazed by the sheer talent in front of him.

Jeno had brought him to an art gallery, of all places. Renjun kind of wanted to kiss him.

“I walked by here last week and thought that you might be interested,” Jeno explained, looking endearingly uncertain as he stood a few feet behind Renjun. “All of the paintings are donated by local artists which is, you know, pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” Renjun smiled sincerely, allowing his eyes to leave the paintings for just a moment. “It is pretty cool.”

Renjun couldn’t believe that Jeno remembered.

There had been one night, several months ago now, where Jaemin was running late for a date. Jeno had arrived on time, only for Jaemin to thrust him into the living room where Renjun sat huddled on the sofa in front of the tv, before excusing himself to go and get ready. Looking a little out of his depth, Renjun had taken pity on Jeno and offered him a glass of the wine he’d been drinking. Renjun had been forced to repress an embarrassed blush when Jeno took notice of exactly what Renjun had been watching.

But, instead of making fun of Renjun for enjoying romance movies, Jeno had merely asked: “Oh, I haven’t seen this one. Is it any good?”

The half hour that followed had sped by in a rush of easy conversation and quiet laughter. Renjun had explained the plot of _Mona Lisa Smile_ , and Jeno had listened attentively before asking the elder if he had any interest in art, which had set Renjun off on a tangent about how he was studying art history and wanted to run a gallery of his own one day. Renjun didn’t have the opportunity to ask about Jeno’s own dreams and aspirations, their conversation soon cut short by Jaemin reappearing in the doorway looking slightly less harried than he had thirty minutes prior. Jeno left Renjun with nothing but an apologetic smile and a promise to continue their conversation at some point. Not long after, Jaemin and Jeno broke up, and Renjun had never got to speak to him about much of anything else.

That had been months ago, but Jeno had remembered their conversation well enough to take note of Renjun’s interest, and even do something about it.

Renjun wasn’t sure his heart could handle it any longer. The longing. The pining. The tension. It was growing too quickly for Renjun to even comprehend, and he was worried that if it didn’t stop some time soon, he would find himself in love with Lee Jeno – Lee Jeno, who was only making things worse for Renjun. He had unknowingly made mistake after mistake, and Renjun was helpless to do anything about it. How was Renjun’s sad, romantic brain supposed to handle all of this? No one had ever done something so thoughtful for him. Even if Jeno hadn’t meant for Renjun to see this outing as a date, he was making it hard as hell for Renjun to view it any other way.

To stop his brain from following that train of thought any further, Renjun chose a painting at random, his eyes fixating on the canvas with forced scrutiny.

Only then did he realise that he had chosen a painting of the restaurant he and Jeno had dined at several days before. He recognised the winding vines of ivy and the intertwining fairy lights. The artist had even painted in a little black-and-white clad figure of the waiter, writing the evening menu on the chalkboard sitting outside. It was beautiful. The colours were warm and inviting, the brushstrokes soft yet deliberate, and Renjun felt some indescribable emotion bubble inside of him.

“Oh, that’s our restaurant, isn’t it,” Jeno exclaimed, sounding so much closer than he had only seconds before. Renjun startled, only turning an inch or two before Jeno’s chest and neck came into view. Renjun couldn’t bring himself to look at Jeno’s face. He felt strangely like crying.

 _Our restaurant_ , Jeno had said. _Our._

“Hmm,” Renjun nodded, knowing that if he tried to speak his voice would only crack and shatter like a broken mirror.

“You should take a picture of it,” Jeno suggested, and Renjun could hear the smile in his voice. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it meant. That smile.

Renjun reached into his pocket for his phone, his elbow narrowly avoiding hitting Jeno in the abdomen because he was _still standing too close_. Miraculously, Renjun managed to keep a hold of his phone, even with Jeno practically breathing down his neck. His hands were a little sweaty as he lifted his phone to his face, and Renjun almost let it slip when his lock screen lit up.

It was a text. From Jaemin.

 _hey junnie!! haven’t heard from you in a while so i’ll assume you’re enjoying my present (_ _｡_ _•_ _̀_ _ᴗ-)_ _♡_ _call me soon? love you!!!!!_

Present? That’s the last thing Renjun would call this vacation. Hell seemed more accurate at this point. It was certainly hot enough. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his neck as he stood frozen, eyes fixed on Jaemin’s message. Not even Jaemin’s cute kaomoji could distract him from painful bullet of guilt shooting through his heart.

God, this was all so wrong. He should be on the phone to Jaemin now, not out galivanting with Jeno.

“I need to go,” Renjun muttered breathlessly, pushing past Jeno on his way out of the gallery. He couldn’t think of anything other than his need to get away from this feeling. From Jeno.

It didn’t matter how fast he moved, because Jeno’s rushed footsteps sounded from behind him as he followed Renjun out into the afternoon sun, both of them briefly stopping to thank the elderly man sitting on a rickety stool at the entrance.

“Hey, Renjun!” Jeno called after him as he rushed down the street. “Is everything okay?”

Renjun stopped in his tracks. No, everything was not okay, but Renjun could hardly tell Jeno that. He was somewhat prepared to tell Jaemin everything but telling Jeno about his feelings was whole other ball game.

“Sorry,” Renjun gasped out as they stopped in front of a greengrocers. The smell of strawberries was sweet in the air, almost too sweet, the kind of sickly sweetness that sets your teeth on edge. “It’s just the heat. It’s making my head hurt.”

Jeno’s face fell and his brow creased with obvious worry. “Do you want to just go back to the hotel? I don’t mind-”

“No!” Renjun blurted, cutting Jeno off. “No, it’s fine,” he continued, a little softer, noticing the flash of hurt in Jeno’s eyes. “I don’t want to ruin your last day here. I’ll manage just fine on my own.”

He watched as a number of emotions appeared on Jeno’s face until he finally landed on something Renjun didn’t recognise, something unreadable.

“I-I mean, if you’re sure,” Jeno started hesitantly, like he was reluctant to let Renjun out of his sight.

Renjun nodded, plastering a vaguely pained smile on his face. “I’m sure.”

Jeno’s answering smile was small and tight. Renjun wasn’t sure what to make of it. He didn’t know what else to say. His mind was running a million miles a minute, too fast for him to catch up.

He decided not to say anything at all.

Renjun stared at the ground distractedly as he began to weave through the groups of people lining the streets. Everywhere teemed with tourists out enjoying the afternoon sunshine, chattering amongst themselves as they sat outside cafes and bars with mugs or wineglasses in hand, but Renjun paid them little attention. He just needed to be alone with his thoughts. Having Jeno around constantly wasn’t good for him. It was messing with his head, and if Renjun was anything, he was not someone to be messed with. He felt angry. He was angry at himself for letting things get so far. He was angry at himself for not doing anything to stop it. He was angry at himself because he knew no one else would be.

Jaemin would be upset, Renjun knew that much, but he wouldn’t be angry. Jaemin didn’t get angry often. He reserved his anger for their neighbour who liked blasting One Direction at 3am, or his philosophy professor who didn’t know when one more assignment became one too many, or even their Wi-Fi connection that never allowed them to get through three minutes of Dr Romantic without it buffering needlessly. Jaemin didn’t get angry with his friends because he never needed to. They talked things out before anger could even be brought into the equation. They communicated.

Then, Renjun began to panic. What if this was the one time Jaemin did get angry? What if he yelled? What if he never wanted to see Renjun again? What if Jaemin forced him to move out? What if-

A hand grabbed him around the waist and pulled him backwards with a harsh tug, causing Renjun’s feet to stumble over one another, almost knocking himself over. The only thing keeping him upright, was the arm wrapped across his abdomen.

“Jesus, Jun! Did you even look where you were going?”

It was Jeno. He sounded harsh, his words clipped and short, but not angry. Something else. Something gentler. Renjun fleetingly allowed himself to believe that it was worry he could hear in Jeno’s voice.

“I was,” Renjun defended weakly, somewhat dazed. His head felt like it was spinning and he didn’t really know what had just happened to him. He felt hot everywhere Jeno’s hand touched, like a fire was rampaging through every inch of his body, burning down every last bit of common sense left. The temptation to let Jeno hold him like this was only growing by the minute. If this continued any longer, he wasn’t sure he could be held responsible for his actions.

“You clearly weren’t if some old woman on a moped managed to nearly killed you.”

A fog cleared in Renjun’s mind and he suddenly felt rather embarrassed. Had he really almost been run over by some old lady on a scooter?

He had finally managed to find his footing and he didn’t topple over like a bowling pin when Jeno’s arm loosened and dropped back to his own side. Renjun didn’t let himself mourn the loss. He turned to face Jeno, squinting into the sunlight as it poured around the younger man’s head, surrounding it like a halo. Or maybe Renjun was just projecting his feelings. Either way, Renjun really hadn’t been lying – his head did hurt, the pressure behind his eyes threatening to burst from one wrong word.

“Were you following me?” Renjun asked, sure that he had left Jeno behind several streets ago. Jeno’s worried frown softened, his eyes dropping to his feet as he toed a stray pebble.

“You looked really out of it,” he murmured, shrugging. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

All Renjun could do was nod wordlessly in response. His heart felt like a wax candle set alight, burning, melting, evaporating until there was nothing left. He felt much the same about his body, but that had more to do with the sweltering heat than a reaction to Jeno’s warm gaze.

“Why don’t you go for a nap, and then we can grab dinner later on?” Jeno suggested sweetly. Renjun wanted to punch his stupid face. Preferably with his own mouth.

It was utterly humiliating how quickly Renjun agreed to each and every one of Jeno’s whims. From breakfast, to the art gallery, to now – Renjun seriously needed Donghyuck to appear out of nowhere and slap him in the face for acting like such a lovesick idiot.

Except Donghyuck was not here. No one was around to stop Renjun from doing something stupid. He only had his own self restraint to rely on, and even that was wearing thin. 

The walk back to the hotel was mostly silent. Every so often Jeno would make the odd comment about a shop they walked past or a flavour of gelato he wanted to try, but for the most part, neither of them said a word. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. It was the opposite. It was just the kind of silence Renjun needed. He didn’t know if he wanted it though, because the silence wasn’t loud enough to disguise the sound of his own thoughts.

He tried not to think too much. He didn’t want his thoughts to wander, no matter the direction they wanted to take. Instead, he tried to think about harmless things, things that left him with a faint smile rather than a pit of dread lying heavy in his stomach. He thought about Kun. His older brother was probably packing up the last of his dorm before leaving for his summer in Thailand. He thought about Donghyuck, who was probably in the process of accidentally ignoring Mark’s poor attempts at flirting with him. Again. For the third year in a row. He thought about Yangyang’s flatmate Yukhei and wondered if he had ever managed to finish composing that song from last year. By the time he and Jeno reached the hotel, Renjun had ran out of things to think about.

The sun was beginning to set as they entered the lobby, the golden light reflecting off the gleaming white walls of the hotel. It was beautiful, Renjun thought. Everything glowed in the most picturesque of ways and Renjun’s hand itched for a paintbrush, a pencil, anything to capture the beauty of the moment. If Jeno was part of that very same moment then, well, no one had to know.

“I was thinking about heading down to the pool before dinner,” Jeno blathered excitedly as they neared the staircase, his mouth stretched into a wide grin. “That way I won’t interrupt your nap _and_ I’ll get to enjoy my last rays of Italian sunshine.

“See you in an hour, then?” Renjun proposed, and Jeno nodded happily.

“See you in an hour,” he affirmed, giving Renjun a small wave of his hand before he turned on his heel and made his way towards the pool.

Renjun didn’t move until Jeno and his broad shoulders were out of sight. He sighed tiredly, his eyelids suddenly feeling heavy. He hadn’t actually planned on sleeping for an hour, but now that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. At this point, being held at gunpoint and forced to name all of the characters from that weird American tv show Donghyuck loved seemed preferable to phoning Jaemin. Then again, Renjun also knew that procrastinating would end making more problems than it solved.

By the time he reached his room, Renjun’s entire body ached with exhaustion, a night spent on the floor finally taking its toll. He slipped the key card from his pocket, slid the key into the slot and unlocked the door with a resounding click. The walls of the room were coloured a brilliant shade of orange from the setting sun, casting the dark silhouette of Renjun’s shadow as he toed off his shoes.

It wasn’t until he looked up that he noticed it.

Renjun froze as soon as the door fell shut behind him.

Oh, he wasn’t only going to throw himself into his own grave when he got back to Seoul. No, he was going to ensure that Jaemin came right along with him.

He and Jeno had left the bed in a state of disarray that morning, forgetting to hang the do not disturb sign on the outside door handle. That, it seemed, had been a mistake. Renjun knew that the housekeeping staff came in every afternoon to take dirty towels and fluff the pillows, but he had never known them to do anything quite like this.

 _This_ , being the scattering of rose petals decorating the bedsheets. _This_ , being the vanilla-scented candles flickering atop the two bedside tables. _This_ , being the champagne resting in an ice bucket on the dresser.

 _This_ was definitely Jaemin’s doing. It had to be. He couldn’t imagine Jeno planning something so disgustingly cheesy.

Jaemin was usually so meticulous when it came to planning things, whether that be an essay for class or Donghyuck’s birthday parties that somehow always required a strangely niche theme (see: 2017’s Coca Cola Extravaganza). Before, Renjun would have found it odd that Jaemin had forgotten to cancel this part of the vacation, but after the massage debacle, he wasn’t so surprised.

Then, there was a muffled beep at the door before it swung open. Jeno stood there, shirt unbuttoned, looking vaguely panicked.

“Um,” Renjun said eloquently, eyes flickering between Jeno’s wide eyes and naked chest. Why did this keep happening to him? Did God want to punish him for liking men? Did he wish for Renjun to suffer?

“Um,” Jeno echoed, taking in Renjun’s frozen figure before glancing at the unexpectedly romantic sight behind him.

“You don’t happen to know anything about this, do you?” Renjun asked, his brow curling into a confused frown when Jeno’s face transformed into a violent shade of red; almost as red as those godforsaken rose petals.

“Yeah, about that,” Jeno coughed awkwardly, arms hanging limply at his sides.

When it didn’t seem like Jeno was going to continue, Renjun raised a sceptical yet encouraging eyebrow. Jeno hesitated, looking sheepish as his eyes scoured every corner of the room. He raised his hand to scratch the back of his neck before letting out a defeated sigh.

“This was all me,” he admitted, sounding almost pained as he did. “I planned it.”

Renjun frowned. “Well, then why didn’t you _un_ plan it when we got here?

Horrifically, Jeno’s blush darkened to an almost impossible shade of red. Renjun didn’t really understand what was happening, but he could tell that Jeno was incredibly embarrassed – he just didn’t know _why_.

And maybe, it would be better for him that he didn’t. Maybe, he should just laugh it off, clear up the rose petals with an awkward cough and move on with his day.

Jeno, however, had different plans.

“Because I didn’t want to,” he mumbled, so quietly that if Renjun hadn’t been paying so much attention he would’ve missed it.

“You… _what_?” Renjun winced at the sound of his own voice; squeaky and high pitched and just generally altogether unappealing.

Jeno huffed, dropping his hand. “You… you really don’t know what today was supposed to be?”

Renjun frowned. “Your last day on a romantic vacation with Jaemin?” he offered slowly, feeling an awful lot like he was part of some practical joke that everyone was in on except for him.

“Renjun.”

The moment his eyes locked with Jeno’s, Renjun knew that something was wrong. He knew that he was wrong. There was a pained look on Jeno’s face as he picked nervously at a hangnail. Renjun wished that, for once, he could remain the oblivious fool he usually was, but he couldn’t. Not now.

“No, Renjun,” Jeno exhaled tiredly. “I thought it was pretty obvious, but today… it was supposed to be, like, a date.”

Renjun blinked. He blinked again. He blinked once more, just for good measure. Maybe he should clean his ears out too.

What?

_What?_

“What?”

Jeno looked somewhat like a kicked puppy, but Renjun couldn’t care less about that right now because _what?_ Maybe somewhere deep, deep down he had been expecting this, but he wasn’t prepared for it. Yes, he had thought that their day had felt a little too much like something out of a romcom, but Renjun wasn’t supposed to be right. He was never right. Except for when he was. Which was most of the time.

This, apparently, was not an exception. 

“Did you- Did you not like it?” Jeno asked warily.

Renjun didn’t know what to say. Had he liked it? Of course he had. He’d be an idiot to even try and deny that. Even if the day had started with Renjun waking up on the floor, it was still one of the best he’d had in a long time. Jeno had been thoughtful, kind and attentive the entire time. He’d taken Renjun out for a nice breakfast, let him waste time in an art gallery, saved him from imminent death and - _oh god_ it had been a date, hadn’t it?

Well, as they say: if it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck.

Yeah. This was a duck if Renjun had ever seen one.

“I didn’t _not_ like it,” he eventually admitted. His mouth felt dry yet his palms were sweating. His body was probably just shutting down. No big deal.

“But?”

Jeno was right. There was a but. A big, huge one. He could just imagine the kind of joke Donghyuck would make if he could read Renjun’s mind, but he really couldn’t let himself get distracted by that kind of nonsense. Renjun would have plenty of time for that once whatever the fuck this was figured itself out, because he sure as hell couldn’t.

He shot Jeno an incredulous look. “Jaemin! My best friend? Your _ex-boyfriend_? Or have you just conveniently forgotten about him?”

Renjun’s emotions were beginning to run high, and he couldn’t even begin to figure out which ones. Anger? Maybe. Frustration? Probably. Confusion? Definitely.

It seemed that Jeno was more than willing to add to the list.

Something in his face changed, and Renjun was shocked to recognise the fear in Jeno’s eyes. He was _scared_.

“Renjun, there’s something I should probably tell you,” he said, suddenly looking smaller than Renjun had ever seen him. It was a jarring sight. Jeno wasn’t small. He always walked with an air of confidence that left Renjun in awe and slightly aroused. Now, however, Jeno looked like a child awaiting a scolding from their teacher.

He had a secret. Jeno had a secret, and he was going to tell Renjun.

Renjun’s hands clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms with bruising force. He didn’t know what to expect. He had no idea where Jeno was going with this.

Jeno didn’t give him much time to think about it.

“I should have told you this earlier,” Jeno began, fidgeting under Renjun’s scrutinising gaze. “Like, much earlier.”

He paused, letting out a breathy, shaky exhale.

“Renjun, Jaemin and I… we were never dating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, sorry to have made you wait so long for this update, but i hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> this chapter caused some difficulty for me, mainly because this is where the angst starts and writing angst doesn't always come easy to me. i also struggled to find a cut off point for this chapter because it just kept on getting longer, which is why i've had to leave you with a cliffhanger - sorry :(
> 
> anyway, please let me know what you think! i'll try to get the next (and hopefully last) chapter up before i start back university. thank you so much for reading, i hope the new year is kinder to you all <3


	4. but damn, i miss you tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i lied, i’m sorry – this is not the last chapter.
> 
> i planned on ch four being the last, but while i was writing this i realised it was just too long for one single chapter (this update is like 12k alone lol), so i have split it into two which is the reason i’ve updated a little earlier than i planned! i hope that doesn’t disappoint any of you too much.
> 
> i definitely had not anticipated such an explosive reaction to chapter three!! thank you so much to everyone who commented and left their own theories about jeno’s confession. hopefully this chapter will clear some things up, so enjoy 😊

_“Renjun, Jaemin and I… we were never dating.”_

The silence that followed was nothing short of deafening. Everything seemed to fall silent, like all of Renjun’s senses had been cut off from the world. He stared at Jeno, unblinking, as he tried to comprehend the words that had just come out of the younger man’s mouth.

“Never….” Renjun cut himself off, his lungs constricting, his heart clenching, his eyes stinging. Never dating? What did that mean? _What did that_ _mean_?

“I-I don’t understand,” he gasped, his face twisting with the pain of growing betrayal. “Y-you were _lying_ to me?

The look of pure guilt on Jeno’s face was all the confirmation Renjun needed.

“Can I ask why?” Renjun asked. He almost cringed at the sound of his own voice, the words coming out thin and strained.

Jeno gulped, eyes trained on his feet. He didn’t say anything for so long that Renjun had enough time to decide on an escape plan.

“You know what? Never mind,” he muttered dismissively. “I-I’m going for a walk. Please don’t follow me this time.”

Renjun wasn’t sure if he was grateful for Jeno’s lack of reaction, or if that only pushed the tears further to the front of his eyes. He didn’t care either way. He just needed to leave. This was already the most humiliated Renjun had ever felt. Crying in front of Jeno would only end up making him feel even worse.

Slipping his shoes back on with a speed he didn’t know he had, Renjun disappeared through the door without looking back. He didn’t want to know what kind of look Jeno was wearing now – he was scared he’d be tempted to stay if he did.

Feelings. They were so frustratingly unpredictable and never failed to surprise Renjun. Sometimes he wished he could just rid himself of them all. While they came with happiness and joy, they also brought pain too.

_We were never dating._

Jeno’s words echoed in Renjun’s head as he stumbled out of the hotel into the tangerine light of the sunset.

_We were never dating._

He tried to keep his tears at bay, the ones that threatened to spring from his eyes like a burst pipe, but it was getting harder and harder as the seconds progressed. Jeno had just dropped a fucking nuclear bomb on him, and Renjun’s emotions were helpless in the path of its destruction. He let the tears fall.

Their entire conversation replayed in his head on a loop as he ambled down winding streets, passing busking musicians, and early-evening diners, and fathers carrying their children on their shoulders, showing them a different realm of existence above the crowds. Renjun felt a little like a hapless child in a world filled with people who towered over him and thought that they knew better. His head hurt as he tried to comprehend it all; Jeno’s confession, his motivations, his fucking rose petals and champagne.

If Alice had struggled with a mere rabbit hole, Renjun wondered how she would face the violent whirlpool he had been swept into. Nothing made sense, his brain cells floating about in their own worlds, never orbiting the one thing that needed it, never allowing things to lock harmoniously into place.

Sorrento felt uncharacteristically loud all of a sudden. There was always a constant buzz about the place, but it had never felt so intrusive, so deafening. Renjun snaked his way through groups of people until he found a narrow street, void of anyone else, that seemed to lead towards the sea. The remaining sunlight gleamed at the end of the alley, like a lighthouse amidst the fog and mist of the ocean.

His foot kicked at a stray pebble, sending it clattering down the cobbled ground with a resounding echo. It wasn’t the same street he and Jeno had visited for breakfast that morning, but it didn’t fail to remind Renjun.

By the time he reached the end of the alley, Renjun was silently stewing in his anger. It was a dangerous kind of anger; not violent or explosive, but rather the quiet kind that requires far more energy than it deserves and often results in tears and heartache.

The harbour was mercifully empty for the time of day, most tourists having disappeared into restaurants or back to their hotels for the night. A crumbling wall sat before the ocean, the kind that looked like it had been built just for people to sit on and dangle their legs as they watched the hypnotic lapping of the ocean waves. Or, in Renjun’s case, the perfect brooding spot.

It required a little bit of manoeuvring and twisting on Renjun’s part, but he eventually managed to situate himself haphazardly on the wall. The incessant buzzing of the town was now nothing but a whisper in Renjun’s ears and he finally felt like he could breathe again.

He sat there for a little while, eyes closed as he concentrated on nothing but the sound of crashing waves and the warmth provided by the last rays of sun. His breathing slowed from something panicked and quick, to slow and even, and his boiling anger lowered itself to a simmer. It was still there, bubbling under his skin, but Renjun no longer felt the need to punch through the nearest wall.

Suddenly, the tranquillity of the moment was cut short by the buzzing of Renjun’s phone. It vibrated against his thigh as the call rang and rang, until eventually he let it ring out. It was quiet again, but only for a brief moment before it began to ring again. With a defeated sigh, Renjun reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, preparing to immediately switch it off, when he noticed that he was being contacted by an unexpected caller.

Unexpected, but not unwelcome. In fact, perhaps this call had come exactly when Renjun needed it most.

“Hi.”

Renjun’s breath came out shaky and unstable. He had picked up on the last ring. “Hi.”

He knew that Yangyang could tell something was wrong. His voice was obviously thick with tears and he was struggling to speak evenly, the words trembling as they fell off his tongue. Renjun was grateful his friend didn’t say anything about it. What he needed right now was normalcy, and the only person who could give that to him was Yangyang.

“How’re you enjoying Italy?”

“I was,” Renjun admitted miserably, “and now I’m not.”

Yangyang’s quiet sigh crackled through the phone. “Shit happens. It can’t be helped. Not even a vacation in Italy can solve all our problems. If it could, everyone in the fucking world would be there right now.” His voice was soft. Renjun felt like crying again.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Renjun shifted where he was perched uncomfortably on the wall, his eyes trained on the lapping waves of the glittering sea and the gleaming orange sun as it hovered just above the horizon. The silence was companionable and comforting – it was exactly what he had expected from Yangyang. It was exactly what he wanted. His head was all over the place, his face was sticky and tearstained, and he had never felt so homesick. The biggest issue with the last one was that thinking of home forced Renjun to think of Jaemin too, and that shot a stabbing pain directly through his heart.

Renjun sniffled discreetly, but he knew Yangyang heard him. “Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember our first date?”

Yangyang laughed softly. “Yeah, I do. Of course I do. How could I forget the worst Tinder date of my life?”

Renjun snorted, the sound coming out as something moist and disgusting, still choked up with snot and tears. “Oh, shut up.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Yangyang apologised gently, and he did sound like he meant it. “It was third worst at best. You had competition.”

Renjun let out a wet laugh.

A pause.

“Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if we’d tried?”

“Dating?”

“Hmm.”

Yangyang paused for a moment, letting out a thoughtful hum.

“I used to. A lot, actually,” he eventually confessed. “I think it was the romantic in me. There was a point – during our second date, I think – I wanted it to work so badly that in reality it never would have. I was too idealistic. Maybe we both were. Maybe we wanted it too badly.”

“Yeah, we never really seem to get what we want,” Renjun whispered. Another tear fell from his eyes. Yangyang had unintentionally struck a nerve. Until today, Renjun had thought that he knew what he wanted. Now he wasn’t so sure. Until today, Renjun knew he couldn’t have what he wanted. Until today, Renjun thought he wasn’t _allowed_ to have the things he so desired. Now it was all just a big mess.

“This wasn’t you trying to rekindle our brief romance, was it?” Yangyang asked, his tone laced with amusement. “You know I love you a lot, Jun, just not like that.”

“I know,” Renjun nodded, even though Yangyang couldn’t see him. “I was just thinking.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Renjun bit contemplatively at his lower lip. Did he want to talk about it? No, not at all. Not for a while, at least. It was too fresh, the wound still too raw. He didn’t know how long it would take to heal. Maybe weeks. Maybe even months. Renjun hated to think that the pain could last any longer.

“Not really,” he said, using his free hand to scrub the tears from his eyes. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

Yangyang didn’t say anything. He seemed to hesitate for a split second, and Renjun’s chest tightened in anticipation, leaving him tired and breathless.

He could practically hear Yangyang gulp on the other end of the line.

“Hyuck called me yesterday.”

Renjun wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t shocked or angry that Donghyuck had gone to someone else. It hadn’t been fair of Renjun to put all of his problems on Hyuck, so it only seemed right that he had gone to Yangyang to alleviate the weight.

“He told you?” Renjun cringed. He sounded so small, so helpless.

“He told me,” Yangyang confirmed. “It’s not like the movies at all, is it?”

A group of giggling girls stumbled down the street behind him, arms winding around each other as they screeched drunkenly, their heeled sandals clacking loudly against the cobbled stone.

“No. No it’s not,” Renjun agreed quietly. “It’s fucked. Everything’s fucked.”

“How badly?” Yangyang asked carefully. “Like, how many points on the proverbial Richter scale?”

“Off the fucking charts,” Renjun mumbled.

“Christ,” was Yangyang’s response, a punched sigh.

He went quiet again. It was a lot, Renjun knew that. He also knew that Yangyang wasn’t used to giving advice, especially not to Renjun. In the past, Renjun had always gone to Jaemin with any and all of his problems, just like Jaemin had with him. He couldn’t do that now, though, and somehow Yangyang had enough intuition to not question Renjun’s desperation.

“Look,” Yangyang started, sounding the most serious he had since Renjun had answered the phone. “I obviously don’t know all the details of your dilemma, but I promise you that – whatever’s going on – talking things out can help a lot. It usually does. I mean, look at us. If we hadn’t been honest about our incompatibility so early on, we probably wouldn’t be friends right now.”

In any other situation, Yangyang’s advice would’ve been good. Great, even. But this wasn’t any other situation. This was an incredibly specific sequence of events that had spiralled out of control and required a very specific solution. If only Renjun knew what that solution was.

“I don’t think talking will fix this,” he choked out as his eyes began to prickle, the tell-tale sign of oncoming tears. “Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s what ruined everything in the first place. Too much honesty.”

“Shit,” Yangyang cursed, sounding far out of his depth. Renjun knew exactly how he felt. He knew exactly how it felt to drown.

“He lied,” Renjun whimpered, and he began to cry again. “Jeno lied to me.”

“Oh, Junnie,” Yangyang murmured, “I’m so sorry.”

Renjun broke.

“Jaemin too,” he added, his throat closing up around the words. “They both lied and now I don’t know what to do.”

Renjun wasn’t used to being the heartbroken one. He was always the one picking up the pieces, never the one making all the mess.

“Don’t know what you _should_ do, or don’t know what you _need_ to do?”

“What’s the difference?” Renjun sniffed, bleary eyes travelling the course of the setting sun.

“One is more selfish than the other,” Yangyang explained calmly. He paused thoughtfully, like he was preparing to tell Renjun some piece of worldly advice.

“And Jun,” he finally added, “I think that you should be selfish for once.”

☼

The hotel room was mercifully empty when Renjun returned. The candles had been snuffed out, the petals swept from the bed, and the champagne was gone. So was Jeno.

Renjun didn’t know where Jeno had disappeared off to, nor did he care.

Maybe he was out searching for Renjun after he’d stormed from the room. Maybe he was off getting drunk in a nearby bar.

Either way, it wasn’t Renjun’s problem.

He felt a little reckless as he yanked open the zipper of his suitcase and started throwing his clothes inside in a jumbled, mountainous heap, but he didn’t know how long he had until Jeno returned. The sky was now a shade of velvety indigo, interrupted by the distant glowing of the coast’s lights. Renjun was sad to see it go, but he felt he would be even sadder if he stayed. He needed to get back home so he could clear his head. He needed to get as far away from Jeno as humanly possible. Getting the next flight back to Korea was the only way to do that.

The bathroom light flickered on with a sizzling buzz, shading the room an ugly fluorescent yellow. Renjun caught a brief glimpse of himself in the mirror and almost recoiled: his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, his nose was pink and raw, and even his hair looked duller and flatter than it should have after days spent out in the sun.

Yangyang had told him to be selfish. He had probably meant for Renjun to run back to the hotel and kiss Jeno silly, or something to that affect, but Renjun didn’t want that. Well, he did, but he couldn’t. His guilt was no longer their only obstacle – Jeno’s own guilt had its role in this whole disaster.

From what Renjun could tell, Jeno probably liked him. Whether that was romantically or sexually, Renjun couldn’t tell, but he knew he could only handle one. If Jeno’s interest in him was only a fleeting, lust-driven whirlwind, then Renjun didn’t want it. He deserved better. He deserved more than that.

He just didn’t know if Jeno could give that to him – if Jeno was _willing_ to give that to him. Most signs pointed to yes, but that didn’t strengthen Renjun’s confidence in any potential relationship between them. Good, healthy relationships required honesty and trust, and Renjun didn’t think he could start anything with Jeno if it were to begin with lies and secrets and deceit. He felt betrayed. Jeno hadn’t been honest about his intentions until Renjun had caught him out, and he probably wouldn’t have said anything earlier had Renjun not been so insistent.

So, instead of staying and suffering in painful silence for an entire night, Renjun had decided to leave. Yangyang had emailed him a ticket without a single word of judgement and had even offered to pick Renjun up from the airport when he landed. After that, he didn’t really know what was going to happen. He didn’t know if going back to his flat was necessarily a good idea because Jaemin would be there, asking just as many questions as Renjun wanted answered. He could maybe bribe Kun into letting him crash at his dorm amidst the boxes and general mess of moving, plying his brother with promises of ramen and tteokbokki. He could probably even convince Donghyuck to let him stay over, but Renjun shuddered at the thought of spending any longer than a few hours under the same roof as Mark Lee and his obvious heart eyes. The final option was Yangyang, but Renjun felt like that would be taking advantage of his friend. The younger man had already done so much for him and asking to sleep on Yangyang’s sofa seemed like asking for more than he rightfully deserved.

No matter. That was a problem for Future Renjun to deal with. Present Renjun had far more imminent problems, like the fact that his toiletries weren’t fitting into his case the same way they did when he’d packed them ten days ago. It probably had something to do with the hasty folding of his clothes, which had resulted in a rumpled mess more than anything else, but Renjun didn’t have much time to fret about the potential for wrinkles in his linen shirts. He was on a time crunch. His flight left in four hours, and he still had to figure out how to get to the airport in that time.

When Renjun finally managed to zip his case closed, he was red in the face and sweating. He felt slightly anxious regarding the security of his luggage, worried that it would pop open again with the smallest hint of turbulence, but it was a scenario he didn’t allow himself to entertain for more than three seconds.

He hadn’t had a chance to change his clothes, so Renjun was going to be stuck travelling in the outfit he’d put on that morning. A flight in denim shorts was fairly high on Renjun’s imagined list of most uncomfortable feelings in the world, but he was pretty sure that sleeping in the same room as Jeno for even one more night topped that by several points.

Renjun wasn’t sure how long he’d spent packing up his stuff, but it was long enough for him to feel anxious about Jeno making a reappearance in the coming seconds. With one last hesitant glance around the room, making sure he had everything he’d arrived with, Renjun tugged his rucksack on with a huff and yanked his bright pink suitcase through the door.

The walk to the lobby was one filled with paranoia. Renjun was terrified that Jeno was going to pop out of the nearest alcove, or turn around the next corner, or appear in the elevator. Thankfully, none of the above occurred, and Renjun made it to the reception desk relatively Jeno free – relatively, because Renjun hadn’t stopped thinking about him for more than a split second.

“Ah, Mr Huang!” the woman greeted with a polite smile. Her voice suddenly seemed too loud, and Renjun’s eyes frantically scanned the lobby for any sight of Jeno. Of course, he was nowhere to be seen, but Renjun didn’t feel like he was free just yet. “How can I help you?”

Renjun gulped nervously before rattling off some poorly constructed excuse using his limited English skills, explaining a family emergency that didn’t exist with a younger sister he didn’t have. Nevertheless, neither the lie nor the language barrier deterred the receptionist from nodding understandingly as Renjun handed over his key card.

“It is a shame you have to leave us at such short notice,” she sighed, sounding genuinely sad about Renjun’s departure. “And leaving your boyfriend behind too, _ah_ … it is all such a shame.”

She either didn’t notice the stricken look on Renjun’s face, or she simply ignored it, instead choosing to ask Renjun about his travel plans. He briefly described his flight arrangements, making sure to mention his lack of transport to the airport itself. At this, the receptionist’s face lit up, as though she had finally found her purpose in life through Renjun.

“You’re just in luck!” she exclaimed happily, and Renjun felt all of the worry drain from his body. Well, maybe not all of it, but at least his travel-related anxieties. “The next coach heading to Naples is just outside,” she continued. “If you had been five minutes later, you would have missed it!”

“Thank you!” Renjun huffed breathlessly, accepting her wishes of luck with a smile and a nod before he and his bright pink suitcase were barrelling through the doors of the hotel.

Right enough, just outside the main entrance stood the coach, its engine rumbling quietly as it awaited its departure. It only took a slightly stilted negotiation with the driver for Renjun’s luggage to find a place amidst the belongings of the other passengers, and soon he found himself sitting comfortably in a seat to himself.

It was strange, being sat back on the same coach that had brought him here. Nine days ago, Renjun had been filled with so much optimism for his time in Italy, Jeno’s presence nothing more than a faint blip on his radar. He had never expected things to spiral so far out of control that he had to run away, for lack of a better term. He had never expected that the mere blip would transform into a fucking beacon, attracting Renjun like a moth to a flame and burning him when he got too close. Too close to what, he didn’t know. The truth? Happiness? Heartbreak?

He wondered what Jeno had thought would happen, what he had planned for them. Renjun knew that Jeno had arrived at the airport back in Seoul with an agenda, but it was still unclear to him what it actually was. Jaemin probably knew. Maybe Donghyuck did too. Renjun kind of felt like he was the only one who didn’t, and that’s what made everything so much worse. Why couldn’t people just be honest with him? He wasn’t some unpredictable, ticking time bomb, ready to blow up at the next person who so much as looked at him. He could handle honesty, but only the kind of honesty that came before dishonesty. Honesty that followed lies didn’t feel like honesty at all. It felt more like putting a plaster on a cut that was already half healed.

In the end, it didn’t really matter what Jeno had wanted.

Renjun needed air, he needed space to breathe, and the only way to do that was to leave Jeno behind. As he had thrown socks and boxers back into his case, Renjun had momentarily considered leaving behind a note for Jeno, explaining his sudden disappearance, but he had eventually decided against it. Even if he wanted to write a note, he wouldn’t know what to say. Too many thoughts were flying around his head, scrambling together like a muddled jigsaw puzzle, and he simply didn’t have the time or the energy to figure out how to put them back together. This situation was delicate in its entirety and one wrong word could shatter it. So, Renjun had left without saying anything at all. If Jeno was really stuck for clues, he was sure that one of his friends, or even the receptionist would be more than happy to help out. Renjun almost felt bad as he imagined Jeno coming back to a cold, empty room, but then again, he supposed it wouldn’t be any worse than returning to find him silently fuming after having had several hours to simmer in his own anger.

As the bus shuddered to life, Renjun briefly contemplated getting off and going back inside. Maybe he was being too dramatic, running away like this. Maybe he had let all of the romantic dramas get to his head. Maybe Jeno didn’t deserve all of this.

But then he heard it again. Jeno’s voice.

_We were never dating._

The coach finally pulled away from the hotel, and Renjun settled back into his seat, letting the tears fall silently as the lights of the entrance faded into the distance, dancing like little fireflies in the night sky.

☼

“Alright, how bad do I look.”

Yangyang hadn’t stopped staring at Renjun’s face since he’d walked through the gate at arrivals. He knew he almost certainly looked disgusting, with his tearstained face and bloodshot eyes, but it was always nice to have a friend confirm it.

“Like shit,” Yangyang muttered bluntly, twisting the keys and pulling his car out of the pick-up area. Rain pattered gently against the roof and windows, reflecting the orange glow of the streetlights as he drove them back out onto the rain slicked roads.

Renjun snorted softly, finding little energy to feel anything but tired. It was strange, going from night in one country to night in another without much daylight in between, and he felt exhaustion niggle at his bones, weighing them down with a heaviness reminiscent to that of lead.

“At least I can count on you to tell the truth,” he mumbled. Surprisingly, Yangyang barely even reacted to the comment, his eyes remaining steady on the road ahead.

The radio droned quietly as they splashed through puddles, some pop song that hadn’t been off the radio since its release months before. Yangyang hummed along nonchalantly as he drove, but Renjun could tell that his friend had a lot of questions – he was just respectful enough of Renjun’s privacy not to ask.

It wasn’t until they had been on the road for quite some time that Renjun realised he didn’t even know where Yangyang was taking them. He said as much, and Yangyang stopped his gentle humming to let out a disbelieving laugh.

“I thought it was implied that you were coming to stay with me,” he said, warm eyes flicking quickly to Renjun before they returned to the road.

“I can’t impose on you like that,” Renjun argued, even if a night on Yangyang’s springy sofa seemed like a heavenly respite from the thick tension he knew was awaiting him at home.

It seemed, however, that Renjun had forgotten just how similar he and Yangyang were – stubbornness included.

“You aren’t imposing if I’m _offering_ ,” Yangyang sighed tiredly, but a fond smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“But you’ve already done so much for me,” Renjun countered, even if he knew he was losing the argument. “Just take me to Hyuck and Mark’s or something.”

Yangyang barked another laugh, this one far more amused than the last. “Yeah right, I’m not taking you there,” he snickered, flicking the indicator down with a click as they turned a corner. “I went over for dinner the other night and the way they were looking at each other made me want to vomit. I couldn’t even enjoy my fried chicken,” he finished, sighing forlornly.

Renjun let out a laugh of his own at that because he knew exactly what Yangyang was talking about. It was their groups worst kept secret; that Mark was disgustingly in love with Donghyuck. Ever since the two had become flatmates a few years prior, things had only gotten worse, and Renjun was seriously confused as to how Donghyuck had yet to notice. Then again, as it turned out, Renjun himself wasn’t exactly the most perceptive of people.

It didn’t take much longer for Yangyang to pull up in front of his apartment building, pulling into the street with a metallic grind that made them both wince.

“Yeah, Yukhei’s been telling me to get the breaks fixed for months,” was all the younger man said when he noticed the grimace on Renjun’s face as they clambered out of the car.

He perked up at the mention of Yangyang’s flatmate, an endeared smile tugging at his lips.

“Is Yukhei home?”

“Hmm,” Yangyang nodded in confirmation. “Yuqi too, I think. She’s been staying over almost every night this week. Even if don’t see her, I know she’s here. Believe me.”

His face curled up in mock disgust, making Renjun snicker quietly at his friend’s suffering. Yuqi was Yukhei’s girlfriend and from what Renjun could tell, she was the nicest person on the planet. So nice, that Yangyang hadn’t been able to tell her that the walls in their apartment were as thin as a piece of paper.

“Sounds like you’ve got a full house,” Renjun commented as Yangyang popped open the boot and began unloading Renjun’s luggage. “Are you absolutely sure it’s okay for me to stay?”

Yangyang placed Renjun’s suitcase on the street with a huff. “It’s fine. Honestly. If I didn’t want you to stay, I wouldn’t have asked in the first place.”

And that seemed to be the end of it because then Yangyang was slamming the boot shut and began lugging Renjun’s case up the street, towards the entrance to his building. Renjun followed with sluggish footsteps, practically heaving his heavy body along the pavement as he struggled to keep up with Yangyang’s hurried strides.

The entryway of the building smelled a little funny, like a house that had remained unlived in for several decades, but Renjun knew that it didn’t reflect the homes inside. Mercifully, Yangyang lived on the ground floor, so neither of them were faced with the struggle of trying to manoeuvre Renjun’s pink case up several flights of narrow stairs.

The door to Yangyang’s apartment didn’t require a key, but it did require a passcode that for some reason took three failed attempts until Yukhei appeared at the door as though summoned by the incessantly angry bleeping. He frowned down at the offending machine before he greeted anyone else.

“What’s the point in having this thing if it doesn’t even work,” he grumbled with a pout, eyeing the keypad with the same contempt Renjun held for guinea pigs and chocolate covered peanuts.

Yukhei only looked up when Yangyang cleared his throat obnoxiously, his eyes widening in recognition when they landed on Renjun.

“Hey, Junnie!” he exclaimed, a bright grin stretched across his face. “Sorry about that. All the fucking beeping really gets on your nerves after a while. Come on in.”

Yangyang muttered a sarcastic “Thanks Yukhei, great to see you too” under his breath as he pulled Renjun’s case over the threshold with a near deafening clatter. Renjun followed suit, the tension in his shoulders easing as the warmth of the apartment washed over him. Suddenly, he felt like he could pass out then and there, although if he did, Renjun wasn’t sure that Yangyang would invite him back again.

“There’s still pizza left over if you want some,” Yukhei offered as Renjun and Yangyang followed him into the living room.

The whole place looked tidier than Renjun had ever seen it, and his heart ached at the thought of his friends tidying up just for him. A scented candle flickered in the centre of the coffee table, filling the room with a sweet, sugary scent Renjun couldn’t place. The usual tangle of wires and controllers in front of the tv were now tucked away out of sight, and the couch had been made up with a few extra pillows and a soft looking blanket. Everything was so warm and comforting, and Renjun felt like crying. If he had any tears left in him, he probably would.

“We don’t have much in the way of extra bedding, but I managed to scrape together enough for a few nights. Or until you decide you want to go home,” Yangyang said, sending Renjun a comforting smile.

“Yeah, feel free to stay as long as you need,” Yukhei added happily. He probably only knew the basics of Renjun’s situation, but he was kind like that, always willing to help out anyone in need.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Renjun croaked, picking at a loose thread on the strap of his bag. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Yangyang shrugged. “You’d probably do the same for me.”

Renjun considered making a joke just then, arguing against his friend’s assumption, but he decided that it would probably ruin whatever tender friendship moment he and Yangyang had going on.

“Yeah, I would,” he settled with, reaching out to pat his friend on the shoulder before shrugging off his bag.

Socked feet padding against the wooden floors sounded from just outside the room, and then Yuqi was there too, pizza box in hand.

“Hey, Renjun,” she greeted soothingly, coming to a stop beside Yukhei, who only aided in making her look comically small. “How was your flight?”

“Long,” he groaned, dropping down onto his makeshift bed with a contented sigh. It actually was decently comfortable. He had to commend Yangyang for his top tier bed making skills.

Yuqi giggled knowingly, and Yukhei looked down at her with a fond smile of his own.

“Here, you’ll be hungry,” she said, offering Renjun the grease-stained pizza box. There was even a napkin lying on top, he noticed, as he took the proffered food with a grateful smile.

“Hey, what about me?” Yangyang complained theatrically. “I have a stomach too. It also has needs.”

Yukhei’s face twisted in disgust. “Please do not talk about your _needs_ in front of me. It’s indecent.”

“Hah! You’re one to talk about indecency,” Yangyang started indignantly, squaring his shoulders as if he were preparing to fight. Renjun merely watched on in amusement as he opened the box and lifted out a slice of lukewarm pepperoni.

“Now, come on boys,” Yuqi scolded teasingly, shooting Renjun a look that said _this happens more than you’d think_. Renjun believed her. “No fighting in front of our guest.”

“Oh please, Renjun’s probably been in more fights than I have,” Yangyang scoffed. “He’s scrappy when he needs to be.”

Renjun snorted through his mouthful of pizza. Yuqi raised an eyebrow. Yukhei smirked triumphantly. Yangyang sighed.

“Yes, mother.”

“Ew, don’t call my girlfriend _mother_ ,” Yukhei grimaced, and Yangyang looked like he was readying for a rematch when Yuqi placed a calming hand on Yukhei’s shoulder and began to gently push him out of the room.

“I think it’s time for us to go to bed,” she announced, sending one last smile Renjun’s way before she and Yukhei were out of the room.

“Night, Renjun!” he heard Yukhei call from the hallway, making him laugh softly, followed by the soft click of a door shutting.

“I would apologise for that, but I’m not sorry,” Yangyang admitted once they were alone, eyeing the slice of pizza in Renjun’s hand with thinly veiled envy. Renjun took a huge bite.

“I thought as much,” he nodded, reluctantly holding out the last slice to Yangyang, who took it with a gleeful grin. They munched quietly on their food for a few minutes, enjoying the salty pepperoni and companionable silence until they were both reaching for paper napkins to wipe the grease from their fingers and mouths.

Renjun’s eyes were drawn to the glowing red numbers of the digital clock sitting beside the tv, telling him that it was a little before ten. Jeno definitely knew he was gone by now. He’d probably be getting himself ready to make his own way back from Italy. Renjun was glad he wouldn’t have to endure another flight with Jeno in such close vicinity, although for an entirely different reason this time.

“Is…” Yangyang started before trailing off with a frown. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Renjun confessed quietly, staring down at the crumpled napkin clenched in his hands. “But I will be. Eventually,” he added with a firm nod, turning to give Yangyang what he hoped was a reaffirming smile.

Yangyang’s eyes travelled the lengths and breadths of his face for a few seconds, catching the bags under Renjun’s eyes and the pimple threatening to make an appearance on his chin, but he eventually let out a breath and nodded himself.

“Okay. That’s good. Just wanted to check.”

He lifted himself up off of the couch, straightening his t-shirt before beginning to clear up the pizza box and napkins.

“Sleep for as long as you need. I’ll make sure you don’t get disturbed,” Yangyang assured tenderly, clearly not having missed the way Renjun’s eyelids drooped heavily. “There’s a pack of spare toothbrushes underneath the bathroom sink and I left some clean pyjamas on the laundry hamper, so you don’t have to go rummaging through your luggage. If you need-”

Yangyang stumbled back as Renjun all but threw himself at his friend, skinny arms coming up to wrap around the younger man’s neck. Renjun felt Yangyang freeze for a moment, shocked by the sudden display of affection, before his hands came to rest on Renjun’s back, returning the embrace.

“Thank you,” Renjun whispered into Yangyang’s ear. “ _Thank you_.”

Yangyang left the room a few moments later, claiming that he would be up until at least two in the morning watching _Money Heist_ should Renjun needed anything.

Renjun wouldn’t since Yangyang had thought of literally everything, but it was good of him to offer nonetheless. He also didn’t doubt his friend’s issue with binge-watching, so Yangyang probably wasn’t lying about how long he’d be awake for.

By the time Renjun crawled onto the sofa, teeth brushed and dressed in baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, exhaustion tugged at his body like an anchor and soon he found his face crushed into one of the pillows. It was surprisingly soft and smelled faintly like the scented candle he’d blown out just moments before. It didn’t take more than a few minutes for the quiet pattering of rain to send Renjun off to sleep.

☼

He awoke the next morning to the sound of muffled voices coming from just outside the living room door. Sunlight streamed through a crack in the curtains, lighting up the room just enough for Renjun’s eyes to adjust. He glanced over at the clock and his eyes almost bugged out of their sockets upon reading that it was almost two in the afternoon. Had he really been tired enough to sleep for that long?

“ _Well… nice to know… alive_.”

Shit. That voice sounded an awful lot like Lee Donghyuck.

“ _Called… crying… asleep_.”

And that was Yangyang, sounding alarmingly angry.

There were a few more words exchanged between his two friends before Renjun decided that lying in wait for something to happen was far more useless than just getting up to investigate. He ruffled his sleep mussed hair as he shuffled towards the door, ignoring the increasing volume of Donghyuck’s voice in favour of reaching out and swinging it open.

Both Yangyang and Donghyuck’s heads swung around to meet Renjun, twin looks of shock on their faces.

Yangyang was the first to recover. “Look, you’ve only gone and woken him up.”

Donghyuck spluttered defensively, whilst Renjun watched on in confusion. What was Donghyuck doing here?

“I wanted to make sure that my friend made it back home in one piece after a dramatic escape from fucking Italy – _of all places_ – and this is thanks I get?” Donghyuck whined offendedly. Renjun and Yangyang exchanged tired looks. If the dark circles under the latter’s eyes were anything to go by, he had probably finished Money Heist in its entirety.

Renjun gestured to his sleep rumpled clothes. “Well, here I am, perfectly unscathed.”

Yangyang sniffed quietly, like he didn’t quite agree with that. Donghyuck ignored him.

“And single, apparently. Renjun, I told you to go get your man, not abandon him in a hotel on the coast of Italy. Where is he? Why is he not got?”

“Hyuck-” Yangyang began warningly, but Renjun quickly cut him off.

“I didn’t think he was mine to get,” Renjun shrugged, and Donghyuck’s face fell, twisting into a sad frown. He didn’t take offense to Hyuck’s comment, but it did sting a little. _Technically_ , Renjun had abandoned Jeno in another country, but in all fairness, he hadn’t been thinking very rationally at the time. It didn’t help that he had an unfailingly supportive friend on his side who hadn’t felt the need to stop him from making a potentially life-destroying decision, romance-wise.

“Jun, what happened?” Yangyang asked carefully. It was only then that Renjun realised he was the only one out of the three of them that didn’t know.

“Ask Donghyuck,” Renjun said, defiantly leaning against the doorframe in an act of faux nonchalance.

Yangyang turned to face Donghyuck wearing an accusatory look on his face, but before he could say anything, the elder was already jumping to his own defence.

“Hey, I didn’t know anything until you phoned me that morning. Or night. Whatever,” Donghyuck directed at Renjun. “And the only reason I know everything now is because Jeno called me in a panic, practically in tears because he thought that Renjun had gone _missing in a foreign country_.”

Renjun winced guiltily. Yeah, he deserved that. He could’ve definitely handed his departure a little better.

Then, he realised something.

“Wait, _everything_?” Renjun startled, his back straightening at lightning speed. “You said you know _everything_?”

Donghyuck looked confused. “You don’t?”

“Uh, no,” Renjun scoffed, “I am very much in the dark.”

“Did Jeno not tell you?” Donghyuck asked incredulously. Both of them ignored the way Yangyang looked between them, following their argument with his eyes, like he was watching a tennis tournament.

“I mean, he tried. I…” Renjun paused guiltily, “didn’t let him.”

“Oh my god, you’re helpless, the lot of you,” Donghyuck groaned, flailing his arms dramatically. He reminded Renjun of a child threatening to burst into a tantrum. “Well, what _did_ he tell you?”

“That he was never actually dating Jaemin.”

He thought he heard Yangyang let out a quiet gasp at that revelation.

“Did he not tell you why?” Donghyuck urged.

Renjun considered the question, and quickly came to an unfortunate conclusion.

“…No?”

He thought he heard Donghyuck mutter a violent curse under his breath, but it was too quiet for him to hear. Yangyang on the other hand definitely had, and his eyes momentarily grew to the size of golf balls.

“Just… how much did you know when I called you that night?” Renjun asked, sounding a little desperate.

“Not much more than you,” Donghyuck sighed, and Renjun practically deflated in relief. “I swear, I didn’t know that Jeno planned on still going to Italy. He had mentioned it before, when he and Jaemin were… well, whatever they were, but I thought the trip had been cancelled when they… broke up? I don’t know, I’m just as confused as you are.”

“I did not understand, like, the majority of what you just said,” Yangyang admitted. He looked like he had just walked out of a screening of a Christopher Nolan movie. “Why did Jeno go? And if they weren’t really dating, why didn’t Jaemin? Why convince Renjun to go?”

Renjun glanced at Donghyuck, who was already looking at him knowingly.

Ah, so there was one more thing Hyuck knew.

“Jun, I really think you should talk to Jaemin.”

Renjun agreed - he did - but he wasn’t ready for that yet. He needed more time to get his thoughts in order. If he went home now, he’d probably burst into a fresh wave of tears the moment he set foot inside.

“I know,” he nodded, “I just… I can’t. Not right now.”

Donghyuck looked like he wanted to protest, but one stern glare from Yangyang was enough for his shoulders to droop in reluctance.

“Sure. Take as long as you need.”

Oh, Renjun planned on it.

☼

Yukhei and Yuqi had left earlier that morning to go on a day trip to Busan, and Donghyuck hadn’t stayed much longer once he saw that Renjun was alive and well, so he and Yangyang were left to their own devices.

After Renjun hopped in the shower, they obviously decided to go absolutely wild, ordering an excessive amount of Thai food before nestling on the couch to watch _10 Things I Hate About You._ If they both mumbled along to the script and cried when Kat recited her poem, well, then no one else was there to see it.

(“I’m kind of like Kat, don’t you think?”

“No, Jun, I do not think.”

“Well, we all knew that.”

“Shut up. If we all know anything, it’s that you’re way more like Cameron than Kat.”

“Seriously? If anyone’s the simp here, it’s you.”)

Later in the afternoon, Yangyang announced that his room required a declutter – probably because he knew about Renjun’s tidying coping mechanism more than any real desire to do so – and the two of them spent a few hours attempting to Marie Kondo Yangyang’s belongings, only to give up in the end because he couldn’t differentiate between the things that sparked joy, and the things he just sort of liked, “Because don’t they also spark joy?”. Renjun considered that for a moment and realised that he wasn’t entirely sure he had ever experienced real joy, which led to a whole lot of existential introspection before they both decided that they had thought too much that day and needed a break.

Renjun determined that Yuqi was some sort of angel sent from heaven when she arrived back at the apartment that evening with Yukhei and plenty of food in tow. They both had matching sunburn across their nose bridges, which was disgustingly cute. Renjun then found out it was because Yukhei had brought haemorrhoid cream instead of sunscreen, which was just disgusting. (Yuqi assured them all that neither of she nor Yukhei had actually put it on their faces – Yangyang didn’t look like he believed her.)

The four of them devoured their dinner, huddled around the coffee table whilst some variety show played in the background. Yangyang mentioned Donghyuck’s visit, to which Yukhei and Yuqi shared an unreadable look, but neither of them said anything about it. Renjun wondered how much they knew, and what they thought was going on.

Once the food was gone and the table was cleared, Yukhei pulled out a box of Monopoly and the evening descended into a chaotic, betrayal filled night - mostly down to Yangyang’s competitiveness and Renjun’s inability to be anything other than a sore loser.

It wasn’t until the others had disappeared off to their rooms for the night that Renjun remembered he hadn’t checked his phone in well over a day. He’d switched it off the moment he got on the plane, and he had yet to turn it back on. He was scared. There would surely be a number of texts from Donghyuck, asking Renjun for his whereabouts, followed by a few threats against his wellbeing if he didn’t answer soon. Kun had possibly texted him too, probably asking him how his last day in Italy had gone.

Then, there were Jaemin and Jeno. Renjun didn’t want to check his phone for fear of what he’d find. He had no way of knowing how they had reacted to his early departure. He didn’t think he wanted to. The past week or so had been an emotional rollercoaster for Renjun and he had no desire to get back on it any time soon. Feelings were draining at the best of times, but it felt like a hungry vampire had sucked the life out of him, leaving his veins dry and parched.

Renjun briefly wondered if he should be happy. All of the guilt he’d been ruminating in for the past weeks had all been for nought. There had never been a reason for it at all. If Jeno and Jaemin had never been in a real relationship, then Renjun’s pining and desire hadn’t been the deadly sin he had thought it was.

And yet…

Renjun _had_ felt guilty. He had spent his time in Italy feeling like some sort of perverted imposter. It didn’t really matter that everything had been a lie, because to Renjun it had been real. He had felt all of those things even if he never had to, because he hadn’t known any better.

Jeno and Jaemin had _lied_ to him. They had kept a secret from him. They had kept a secret _about_ him, and Renjun needed to know. He needed to know why.

With shaking hands, Renjun slipped his phone out of the front pocket of his backpack and held in the power button. The screen flashed bright white as the device powered up, and before long he was faced with his lock screen – a blurry photo of their friend group on a night out back at Christmas. It remained blank at first, his notifications staying silent for a stilted second before the incoming rush began vibrating the phone with so much force Renjun was worried the thing would explode.

As he had expected, a large number of the texts were from Donghyuck, so Renjun decided to skip past them with nothing more than a quick scan of his eyes. Kun hadn’t asked him about his trip, but he had sent Renjun a shaky picture of what could have either been a ghost or just a drunken selfie. Renjun would bet money on the latter, because it was followed by a jumble of letters that he assumed were supposed to explain the photo, but only ended up causing him further confusion. He replied to Kun’s message with a smiley face, assuming that it was the safest option for such an ambiguous text.

He had a few Instagram notifications, and Yangyang had sent him a weird TikTok at an absurdly early hour in the morning, but that was it.

Well, not exactly. _That was it_ really meant that those were all the notifications he had to distract himself with before he got to the others – before he got to the ones he dreaded the most.

_please come home. i miss you._

It was the most recent message from Jaemin. Long gone were the exclamation marks and the cute kaomojis. He had even used proper punctuation, for goodness sake. It was the most un-Jaemin-like text Renjun had ever received and it felt like a punch to the gut. Jaemin wasn’t angry. He was sad. He was hurt. He was sad and hurt, just like Renjun.

For the first time in a while, Renjun didn’t feel guilty when he thought of Jaemin. He didn’t feel like he was keeping some terrible secret anymore. They had both made mistakes, and Renjun thought that perhaps it was time they spoke about them.

He didn’t bother reading the rest of Jaemin’s texts, knowing that they would only make him cry. He didn’t even consider reading Jeno’s. Not now. Baby steps, after all.

Renjun decided that this would be the last night he would impose on Yangyang’s hospitality. He knew that his friend would try to convince him to stay longer, but Renjun couldn’t keep avoiding Jaemin. He couldn’t keep avoiding his life. It was almost unfair how right Donghyuck was. The only way anything could be solved would be by talking to Jaemin – Jaemin, who _missed_ him. Renjun missed Jaemin too, he realised. So incredibly much. He could barely even remember what it was like to talk to his best friend, their last conversations nothing more than distant memories by now.

It was late by the time Renjun was tucking himself into his makeshift bed, teeth minty and hair soft from whatever fancy conditioner Yangyang used. It was late, but Renjun found drifting off to sleep to be nothing short of a monolithic task. His eyes hurt from fatigue, but they didn’t seem to want to fall shut, no matter how many sheep Renjun counted.

He was nervous. He had never been nervous before, not when it came to Jaemin. They told each other everything, knew everything there was to know about the other. At least, they were supposed to. This whole situation had really shown Renjun that there was so much about their friendship left unsaid. He was re-evaluating almost every conversation he and Jaemin had ever had, wondering what had been an excuse, a mirage, and what had been the truth. It was a dangerous train of thought, one that was bound to get Renjun lost somewhere in the darkest depths of his mind.

It wasn’t good for either Renjun or his friendship with Jaemin to overanalyse things. It wasn’t good for him to ask so many questions, when they had the potential to ruin everything Renjun had ever known.

In the end, Renjun didn’t sleep at all that night, bleary eyes fixed on the digital clock as the hours passed, until eventually it was eight in the morning, and he could hear Yukhei get up for his shower.

With a tired groan, he rolled off of the couch, opened the curtains to allow the sunlight through, and padded into the kitchen to make himself a horribly watered-down instant coffee. Neither Yangyang nor Yukhei were big coffee drinkers, so all they had were the cheap granules Jaemin cursed with his entire heart and soul any time someone so much as mentioned them.

Yangyang probably wouldn’t be up for a while, so Renjun would have to wait a little before he left. He now knew better than to leave without saying goodbye, especially after all Yangyang had done for him.

Renjun took his coffee back into the living room, curled up on the couch, and switched on the tv. He winced as he took a sip, the bitterness catching his tongue as the coffee went down less than smoothly. Next time, he would just drink tea.

“Hey, you’re up early!”

Yukhei stood in the doorway, dressed in a tank top and ready to go on his morning run, or something equally as horrendous.

“I think I slept too well the other night,” Renjun replied with a smile, choosing not to tell Yukhei that he hadn’t napped for more than ten minutes.

“Man, you must’ve been beat,” Yukhei laughed, kneeling down to fix one of his shoelaces. “That, or our sofa’s way more comfortable than a bed.”

A muffled snort sounded from behind Yukhei. Astonishingly, it was Yangyang, awake but looking like he wished he were in the middle of an intense REM sleep cycle. Renjun didn’t blame him.

“If you want to sleep on the sofa, please feel free,” Yangyang yawned, pushing passed Yukhei and dropping down into the seat beside Renjun. “Just not on the nights Yuqi stays. I do not feel like disinfecting this thing again.”

Yukhei spluttered, his face turning a concerning shade of red. He mumbled something about how “It was _one_ time” before departing for his morning run with his tail tucked between his legs, leaving Yangyang and Renjun to cackle evilly at his humiliation.

“You never give him a break, do you?” Renjun grinned once he heard the front door slam shut.

“Never,” Yangyang confirmed. “He needs someone to keep him in check. I just happened to be the first volunteer.”

☼

Renjun’s coffee was long gone by the time he worked up the courage to tell Yangyang he was going to head home and talk to Jaemin. It actually came as a bit of a shock when Yangyang not only agreed with him, but also offered to drive Renjun and his belongings back to the apartment. For a moment, Renjun considered turning the offer down, but one glance at his pink suitcase stuffed to the brim and straining to stay closed was enough for him to accept.

Yangyang’s car didn’t fail to make yet another questionable noise as he pulled away from the curb, and Renjun’s confidence in their safety wavered once more. The music playing was peppy and cheerful, the complete opposite to how Renjun felt about going home. He hadn’t messaged Jaemin to let him know, worried that he’d back out if he spent too long thinking about it. Renjun didn’t want to plan out the things he wanted to say. If he did, he’d only end up sounding rehearsed and insincere, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen.

Before long, Yangyang’s car ground to a halt, stopping directly in front of Renjun’s building. It hadn’t even been two weeks since he’d last been here, but it felt so much longer. So much had happened that Renjun felt like he had aged at least decade. His body was already shutting down; what was a grey hair or two?

“Call me if you need anything,” Yangyang said, twisting in his seat so that he was facing Renjun. “I mean literally anything. I’ll be here as fast as this car will get me.”

Renjun’s answering smile was a little watery, but grateful nonetheless.

“I will,” he promised, and Yangyang let out a pleased sound in response.

This time Renjun dealt with tackling his suitcase all on his own, managing to get it out of the car without too much trouble (as long as the fact it landed on his left foot was dismissed). He stood on the pavement, watching as Yangyang and his car coughed and groaned before shuddering back down the street and out of sight.

He was alone now. He didn’t have Yangyang to distract him with romcom marathons, or Yukhei to fill the silence with booming laughter, or even Yuqi to pester him into eating more even though he was already so full his stomach hurt. His phone buzzed a few times in his pocket, most likely signalling Donghyuck’s reply to the text he had sent in the car.

( _going home now. will let you know if i make it out alive <3_)

Renjun could check that later, though. Now he had the looming task of getting all the way up three floors in a building with a broken elevator, something he had mostly forgotten about until now, too preoccupied with thoughts of talking things out with Jaemin.

With a determined huff, Renjun grabbed his case firmly by the handle and began dragging it noisily towards the building’s entrance, its wheels rumbling and scraping against the uneven ground.

Just as he reached the door, his free hand reaching out for the keypad, he was stopped by the sound of a familiar voice.

“Renjun?”

He froze, outreached hand hovering awkwardly in the air. He couldn’t say anything for a few seconds, his mouth drying up and his palms turning clammy with nerves.

Slowly, Renjun turned around, schooling his face into something a little less shocked.

“Jaemin. Hi.”

☼

They didn’t say a word to each other as Jaemin silently helped Renjun lug his case up the stairs. In fact, they hadn’t said anything since Renjun had caught Jaemin arriving back home from his daily coffee run. Now, the clatter of ice cubes hitting against the plastic of Jaemin’s to-go cup was the only thing Renjun could hear as they clambered up the steps to their apartment.

Once they were outside their door, the case dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, and Jaemin keyed in the pass code, opening it with a shrill beep.

Jaemin didn’t have a chance to offer his assistance again because Renjun was already halfway through the apartment door, tugging his case over the threshold and pushing it up against the wall to deal with at a later time.

He looked up after slipping off his shoes to find Jaemin already staring at him, his gaze wary as he took in Renjun’s tired eyes and creased clothes – he’d had to dig them out of his case, silently cursing Past Renjun for being so careless with his packing. Jaemin, on the other hand, didn’t look any worse than he usually did. His pink hair had faded a little in the time Renjun had been away, and if he looked a little too closely, there were dark circles resting in the skin beneath Jaemin’s eyes, but other than that nothing seemed to be amiss.

They stared wordlessly at one another for a moment, both of them fidgeting slightly at the unusual awkwardness surrounding them.

Renjun wasn’t used to this. Jaemin was the kind of person it was almost impossible to be awkward around. It didn’t matter how antisocial Renjun was feeling on any particular day; Jaemin could pull a laugh out of him with nothing more than a well-timed joke and a smile. Renjun missed that easiness, especially now that it was nowhere to be found.

“You’re back early.”

It wasn’t a question, so Renjun surmised that Jeno had probably contacted Jaemin at some point in the last day or two. He remembered Donghyuck telling him that Jeno had been crying to him the phone. Renjun wondered if he had done the same with Jaemin. The thought made his heart hurt.

“Things happened,” Renjun shrugged, shooting Jaemin a knowing look that made his friend visibly cringe. It was probably a little twisted – the satisfaction Renjun got from seeing Jaemin visibly guilty – but it was less to do with Jaemin’s suffering, and more to do with the fact that he recognised he had fucked up. Renjun didn’t feel angry at Jaemin anymore, he was tired of feeling angry. Now, more than anything, he just wanted answers.

“We should probably talk,” Renjun eventually said, deciding that there was no point in beating around the bush. It was better to get straight to the point than to never get to it at all.

“Probably,” Jaemin nodded, his voice coming out a little strangled.

They ended up on opposite ends of the sofa with a space between them that had never existed before now. Jaemin suddenly felt so far away, and Renjun ached to reach out and hold him. His best friend looked small as he sat stiffly in his seat, like a frightened animal preparing to run from its predator. Renjun hoped that _he_ wasn’t the predator. He didn’t plan to pounce on Jaemin. He planned to talk to him, to work out their problems like the adults they were.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Jaemin said, trembling eyes trained on Renjun, who was desperately trying not to cry himself.

“I know,” Renjun nodded solemnly, because he did. Jaemin had made a mistake but he had never meant for Renjun to get hurt.

“Good,” Jaemin croaked. “I just thought you should know that before I explain things.”

Renjun didn’t say anything but he gave Jaemin a faint, encouraging smile. It seemed to work, because Jaemin’s body seemed to relax slightly into the cushions of the sofa, like his paranoia had evaporated with the curl of Renjun’s mouth.

“I suppose I should start at the beginning.”

Jaemin’s tone was resolute and his mouth was set into a firm line. He paused, frowning thoughtfully for a second, and Renjun waited patiently for him to get his story together.

“So, as far as you know, everything with Jeno started last Halloween, right?”

Renjun nodded. Jaemin chewed at his lower lip before continuing.

“It didn’t.”

“It didn’t?” Renjun was confused. Hadn’t Halloween been the first time either of them had met Jeno?

“Well, not _really_. Before all of this I would have probably felt bad about telling you, and I’m sure Jeno would rather be the one to say it but…” Jaemin trailed off, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Renjun, Jeno likes you. He has for a while.”

“A while?” Renjun tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the admission.

“Like, since before Halloween,” Jaemin explained. “That kind of a while.”

Everything Renjun thought he knew was turning out to be very far from the truth. Jeno had liked him for _nine entire months_? Maybe even longer?

“But I didn’t even know Jeno then!” he exclaimed, recalling Donghyuck mentioning his new friend every once in a while, but not much else until he invited Jeno on Halloween.

“He knew you, though,” Jaemin countered, quirking an eyebrow. “Apparently Hyuck used to talk about us a lot, telling Jen stories from as far back as school. He even showed him photos,” he muttered disapprovingly.

Renjun felt his face burn red at the thought of Jeno seeing his high school pictures. He definitely had not peaked back then.

“Yeah, embarrassing, I know,” Jaemin laughed shortly upon noticing the faint look of panic on Renjun’s face. “Anyway, Jeno thought you were cute or something – well, that’s what he told Hyuck, and then Hyuck told me. We had this idea that we’d try to set the two of you up on Halloween, but then you went off with that vampire, and our plan was kind of ruined.”

Ah, so Donghyuck had known about Jeno’s feelings all along. That explained his confidence during Renjun’s frantic phone call, but it also somewhat comforted him to know that Donghyuck hadn’t lied to him about anything and had merely been keeping his knowledge of Jeno’s crush to himself.

“I don’t really get what that has to do with Italy, though?” Renjun pointed out, his mind rushing ahead of Jaemin’s story.

“Alright, I’m getting there,” Jaemin complained, his voice threatening to take on a whining lilt.

It had started to rain again, and the afternoon sky had turned a blank, endless grey, so very different from the watercolour sunsets Renjun had grown used to. He winced apologetically, allowing his best friend to continue.

“As I was saying,” Jaemin carried on, not at all put off by Renjun’s impatience, “Jeno was a bit miffed when he found you already _pre-occupied_. He probably thought that he had missed his one and only chance with you. After that, Donghyuck actually introduced us to each other, and we got talking – about you, mostly. That’s when we devised our whole fake relationship. Jeno liked you, and I, as your best friend, only wanted what was best for you – a nice, sweet guy who was willing to give you the love you deserve. We just had to make you jealous enough to notice him.”

Whilst Jaemin’s intentions had been pure, and even sort of sweet in a strange way, Renjun couldn’t easily ignore the fact that they had planned all of this behind his back.

“Why couldn’t either have you just spoken to me?” he asked forlornly. “Even if I was making out with some girl in front of the fridge, that was hardly a marriage proposal. I never saw her again after that night.”

“Well, I know that _now_ ,” Jaemin huffed, and his shoulders seemed to slump with the weight of his regret. “It was stupid of me, that much is obvious. Hindsight _is_ twenty-twenty.”

“I just…” Renjun cut himself off with a sigh. “I wish you would have talked to me, then we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Jaemin’s head titled. “How so?”

Okay, so he was doing this. Like, for real. Renjun exhaled slowly, trying not to pay Jaemin’s concern any attention.

“Jaemin, I like Jeno,” he confessed shakily. “I have for almost as long as he’s liked me. It just took me a while to realise.”

Jaemin made a strange noise, like he’d choked on his own saliva. “Y-you like Jeno?

Renjun hesitated momentarily before nodding in confirmation.

“Bu-but you left him in Italy!” Jaemin stuttered, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Because I felt used and manipulated,” Renjun explained, keeping his voice calm and even. He could feel a number of emotions bubbling under the surface of his skin, but none of them felt nearly as dangerous as they had days before. “You don’t understand how guilty I felt that entire week; _wanting_ him but not being able to _have_ him because he was your ex. You don’t go after your best friend’s ex-boyfriend.”

Jaemin’s lip had began to bleed a little with how much his teeth had been nipping at it, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to shake. His face drooped sadly as Renjun spoke before it lifted again in some form of realisation.

“Wait, the entire week?” Jaemin echoed, his eyes holding something Renjun couldn’t quite decipher. “Did Jeno not tell you earlier?”

Renjun scoffed internally. Wouldn’t that have been nice?

“No. I didn’t know anything until, like, two days ago.”

“Two d-” Jaemin’s laugh was one of exasperation, and exasperation only. “He was supposed to tell you, like, two days in. I can’t believe he waited that long, and he didn’t even fucking explain himself.”

Two days in. Renjun tried to imagine what would have happened if Jeno had confessed then. In all honesty, the likelihood of Jeno being successful wasn’t exactly high. Their first days in Italy were spent in different hotel rooms, with Renjun putting in a Herculean effort to avoid Jeno as he plotted the younger man’s demise. Thinking back on it, he couldn’t completely fault Jeno for not having said something sooner. It would have probably ended with a punch to the face or something just as violent.

“To be fair, I didn’t really give him a chance,” Renjun acknowledged. “I kind of just… ran away.”

“I mean, I guess I can’t blame you,” Jaemin agreed with a shrug. “I didn’t realise how much of an idiot Lee Jeno really was.”

“But you spent so much time with him?” Renjun snorted. “Like, all of the dates? All of the nights he stayed over? All of the times you two… well, _you know_?”

Jaemin flushed embarrassedly at Renjun’s implication, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Jun, I think I should make something very clear – Jeno and I never had sex. We never even kissed.”

Renjun’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Even if Jaemin and Jeno were never in a real relationship, they had still spent an awful lot of time together. It would have surprised him less if they _had_ kissed.

“Never?”

Jaemin twisted his torso to face Renjun. “Can you remember ever seeing us kiss or be affectionate? Even once?”

Renjun racked his brain, trying to recall any time he had seen Jeno and Jaemin participating in any kind of PDA. The only thing he could remember was the occasional hug, now that he thought about it. Even when they were all sitting around, tipsily sipping on cans of beer and bottles of soju, they hadn’t been particularly touchy with each other.

“No, I guess not,” he mumbled. “Why did you tell me that you did, then?”

“It was obviously an attempt to make you jealous,” Jaemin said, rolling his eyes. “As was the point of our whole fake relationship.”

Renjun felt a little like a character in a film. He couldn’t think of anyone in real life who’d been at the centre of a fake dating plot.

He decided that he didn’t like it very much and would leave the movie business stuff to the professionals. When he wished for a Hollywood-worthy romance, this was not what he meant.

“It really wasn’t one of your brightest ideas,” Renjun commented, noticing that Jaemin didn’t even attempt to defend himself. Good. “Jaemin, you’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone else. Did you honestly think that it would work?”

“I don’t know, I hoped it would. You seemed kind of lonely, watching movies on the sofa by yourself every weekend,” Jaemin explained. “Jun, you deserve to be happy. I… I’ve realised that I bother you so much with my own relationship problems that you never have time to go out and meet someone yourself.”

That sounded awfully familiar. A certain someone had said something along the same lines not too long ago.

“Did Hyuck talk to you?”

Jaemin’s mouth downturned sheepishly at Renjun’s question. “I think saying that he shouted at me would be a little more accurate, but yeah. I kind of felt like I was being scolded by my mother.”

Renjun didn’t laugh, but he smiled quietly. If there was ever an award for meddling friends, then Donghyuck would the number one winning candidate.

“I’m sorry about the whole Italy thing,” Jaemin said after a short pause. “I was the one who suggested it in the first place, so don’t blame Jeno too much. He just went along with it.”

“Even so, he didn’t make things any easier for me,” Renjun whispered, an almost offhand comment, but Jaemin heard him anyway.

“Hmm?”

Renjun felt a little embarrassed when he thought about it - about how Jeno made him feel. Once he got past the initial pain leftover from Italy, all that remained were butterflies and a quivering heart.

“He… he remembered things about me,” he said bashfully. “Like how I hate olives and love art. It was the first time anyone’s ever shown any interest in the things I say.”

“Hey, I do!” Jaemin sounded slightly offended, and it forced a laugh out of Renjun.

“No, you listen when I go on rants about, like, cubism and then forget everything I said immediately afterwards,” Renjun corrected, unable to stop himself from smiling. “It’s not the same.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Jaemin nodded sagely with a smile of his own. “I’m not the one who’s half in love with you.”

“No one is half in love with me,” Renjun spluttered, and Jaemin cackled. It made Renjun feel warm, because it was the first he’d heard Jaemin laugh in what felt like a decade.

“Yet,” Jaemin teased, and suddenly it felt like they were slipping back into the way they used to be. Not completely, because they still had a lot to talk about, and even more to figure out going forward, but for now, Renjun would take what he could get.

And then:

“Wait, if you and Jeno weren’t dating, why were you crying so much after you broke up.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened, and he looked mortified all of a sudden, which was a strange sight to see because Jaemin didn’t get embarrassed. He was the most shameless person Renjun knew.

“Don’t get angry at me,” Jaemin started warily, “but I really wanted to re-watch it and-”

_No._

“-you came back halfway through the last episode-”

_He wouldn’t._

“-and I was embarrassed because I was crying over it _again_ , so I thought that it was the perfect opportunity to bring up the whole couple’s retreat thing. I’m sorry.”

Renjun gaped at him.

“You re-watched Goblin _without me?”_

In that moment, he thought it would be a lot harder to forgive Jaemin for that than anything else, so maybe this didn’t have to be difficult. Maybe this didn’t have to be the ruin of their friendship. Maybe – just maybe – this could be a new beginning instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologise for the lack of jeno in this chapter, but don’t worry, the next chapter will definitely make up for that! i’m working my way through the second half so i won’t keep you waiting too long. as always, please let me know what you think, and thank you so much for reading! <3


	5. i'm out at a party, they're playing our song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point i am literally setting myself up for failure every time i say the next chapter will be the last – this is the final time, i promise!! i just wanted too many things to happen in this chapter, but then I found a logical break and decided to stop there before this one got too long. chapter six will be the final one, and if it isn’t, feel free to yell at me in the comments. 
> 
> i think part of me really doesn’t want to let this fic go, which is also the reason so hot you’re hurting my feelings is now part one of a series!! there will be more info about that soon, but for now, please enjoy this (second last!!) chapter 😊

It was Mark’s birthday, just over two weeks after Renjun had returned from Italy, and he and his friends were scattered across the birthday boy’s apartment. Donghyuck had made a fair but mostly unsuccessful attempt at decorating, with sad streamers and limp balloons scattering almost every surface in sight as guests milled about with red solo cups in hand.

Speaking of Donghyuck, he seemed strangely frazzled about the whole affair and had texted Renjun multiple times throughout the week begging for reassurance that it would be better than all of his own birthdays combined. Renjun hadn’t lied and had told Hyuck to lower his expectations, but now he wished he hadn’t been so honest. Donghyuck was hovering in the kitchen, uncharacteristically quiet as he observed everything from afar.

“Do you think he’s finally realised?” Yangyang snickered, also watching from his spot on the squeaky leather sofa as their friend attempted to pour himself a drink, managing to clumsily get the beer everywhere except from inside his cup itself.

“What, that he has a massive heart boner for Mark?” Renjun snorted. “Yeah, I think so. I’ve never seen him so…”

Yangyang raised an eyebrow. “Pitiful?”

Renjun burst out laughing, his cheeks red and body warm from the alcohol in his own drink.

“I was going to say panicked, but yes, that too.”

Yangyang grinned widely, tipping his head back as he gulped down a few mouthfuls of beer.

“Did he text you as much as me?” he asked, eyes gleaming mirthfully at the sight of Donghyuck frantically mopping up his spilled drink with what looked to be an entire stack of blue napkins.

“Twice as much,” Renjun corrected, his voice laced with humour.

“I don’t know why he always turns to you for help,” Yangyang whined childishly. “I’m the only one who never has relationship problems.”

Renjun gave him a blank stare. “That’s because you are literally the most single person I have ever met,” he deadpanned, eyebrows raised at Yangyang, whose face was growing redder by the minute. How many beers was he on now? Four? Five?

“Exactly. I mean, look at that,” he grimaced, gesturing to Donghyuck who had finally poured himself a drink, and had now graduated to gazing at Mark from across the room. “I refuse to go through all of that disgusting pining. I’m saving myself for true love.”

“Alright, Romeo,” Renjun scoffed, ignoring Yangyang’s affronted expression. “No wonder it never worked out between us.”

“What are you two gossiping about?” Jaemin interrupted before the younger man could say anything else, sauntering over with a cheeky smirk on his face. He looked handsome with his freshly re-dyed hair and new white shirt.

“Hyuck’s heart boner,” Yangyang teased.

“And  _ his _ lack of one,” Renjun added, pointing his thumb at Yangyang.

“Ah, it’s always so philosophical with you guys,” Jaemin sighed sarcastically, dropping into the free seat on Renjun’s left. “It’s a shame I’m not more intelligent, or I’m sure I would have plenty to add to your conversations on such profound topics.”

“Aren’t you a philosophy major?” Yangyang asked, taking a pointed sip of his drink.

Jaemin shrugged. “And what of it?”

The three of them sat on the sagging couch as the small party continued around them. The music was terrible (an odd combination consisting mainly of Justin Bieber and Coldplay), the food was even worse (Donghyuck had not realised that the mini pizzas were not in fact ready to eat without a working oven) and everyone was beginning to act horribly drunk (and by everyone, Renjun meant everyone  _ but  _ himself).

Mark was the biggest lightweight of them all, which Renjun could forgive him for because it  _ was _ his birthday, but he soon started to question his forgiveness when the elder decided that merely listening to  _ Baby _ on repeat was not enough, and that singing along was necessary. Donghyuck looked to have gotten a hold of his party planner jitters, but only after downing at least a bottle and a half of soju. Renjun wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up passing out before midnight. Mark’s older friends from the university basketball team seemed to be much better at holding their alcohol, but Renjun was almost certain that not five minutes ago he had heard one of them suggest something that sounded suspiciously like a round of body shots. He would definitely not be participating if that was the case.

At one point, Jaemin left to refill his cup, leaving Renjun and Yangyang alone again.

“It’s nice seeing you two back together,” the younger man smiled.

Renjun returned it. “You say that now, but you’ll be eating your words when Yukhei helps us to break in at midnight on your birthday.”

Yangyang glared at him incredulously. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning,” Renjun whispered ominously, bursting into a fit of laughter when Yangyang collapsed in his seat with a theatrically pained noise.

Yangyang was right though. It  _ was _ nice. It had taken a little while for Renjun to fully forgive Jaemin, and at times he still wasn’t entirely sure he had, but they had managed to ease back into some form of their previous friendship, although with a few minor changes. They actually spoke to each other now, both in an attempt to redefine their notion of trust, and to help avoid any similar miscommunication in the future.

But, telling each other everything also meant talking about Jeno. It was difficult at first, a lingering air of awkwardness making the words stick in Renjun’s throat. Sometimes he didn’t even know what to say, all of his thoughts and feelings culminating in a muddled, incomprehensible mess. Eventually, though, it became easier. It became easier for Renjun to admit that he liked cheesy, romantic gestures, including roses and champagne, but only after a mutual romance had actually been established (Jaemin would never let Jeno live that one down); that he liked cuddling on the sofa, warm and wine drunk; that he liked all of those things, and that he wanted them with someone like Jeno. Or preferably just Jeno himself.

Renjun had long abandoned his fleeting decision to cut Jeno out of his life because, realistically, that would be impossible. Not only did he and Jeno share the same group of friends, but they lived in the same city; frequented the same places; attended the same university. Renjun knew that he would have to see Jeno eventually, but before that he still had to figure out what he wanted to say to Jeno, and what he wanted to hear in return. He was now certain that Jeno liked him enough to consider dating him, but things still had to be resolved, and they wouldn’t be until Renjun spoke to him. Jaemin had told him everything he could, but that was only one side of the story. There were some things that only Jeno could tell him. There were some things that Renjun  _ wanted _ Jeno to tell him. 

So, he had let a few weeks pass to allow things the chance to cool down, and to give his mind the opportunity to find enough inner peace that he wouldn’t feel like slapping Jeno the minute they saw each other again.

The only issue was that Renjun had expected to see Jeno later rather than sooner, and he was not at all prepared for the eventuality of either. Apparently, the universe had other plans, as it always seemed to when it came to Huang Renjun.

With most party attendees otherwise occupied, Renjun was the only one sober enough to answer the knock at the door. Even if the others weren’t already drunk out of their minds, the music was so loud that they probably couldn’t even hear it. The only reason Renjun  _ had _ was because he was returning to the sofa after visiting the bathroom for a well-deserved break. He had left Yangyang and Jaemin in the middle of a conversation about some game he didn’t play, one that had begun to grow progressively louder with each drink they consumed.

Renjun would have probably stayed and endured it if he had known who would be waiting on the other side of the door.

It was like history repeating itself all over again when Renjun opened it to find Lee Jeno standing there, the smile on his face quickly falling as he realised just who had answered his knock.

“Hi.” 

Renjun surprised himself with the sound of his own voice. Jeno was surprised too, if the widening of his eyes meant anything. A myriad of emotions raced across his handsome face before settling on a mixture of bewilderment and fear. It was infuriating that Jeno could pull such a look off, but Renjun was barely even surprised at this point. Actually, he was pretty sure that he liked it.

“Uh, hey,” Jeno responded unsurely, looking just as unprepared as Renjun felt. His dark hair was parted so just a smidgen of his tanned forehead peaked through, his sun-kissed glow still present after weeks back in Korea. If Renjun looked close enough, he could even see a smattering of freckles painting the skin across Jeno’s nose bridge. Cute.

“I take it you’re here for Mark?”

Jeno frowned, eyes blinking before realisation dawned on him. “Oh, yeah. It’s his birthday.”

It sounded more like Jeno was reminding himself than anything else, and Renjun had to bite back a smile. It was too early for that sort of thing –  _ smiling _ – and it would remain that way until they had a chance to speak.

“Come on in, then,” Renjun said, opening the door wider for Jeno to step through.

He looked really good. Despite the August heat, Jeno was wearing tight black jeans and a heavy leather jacket – just enough to kill Renjun without actually harming him. For no longer than a moment, he let himself imagine that Jeno had dressed up like this just on the off chance that he would see Renjun. He quickly abandoned the thought because, yet again, it was too early for that sort of thing.

The music had improved slightly in Renjun’s absence and, luckily for some, Jeno did not have to be subjected to the atrocity that was Mark’s playlist.

“Did I miss the Justin Bieber karaoke session?” Jeno asked knowingly as Renjun led him into the apartment, although his voice didn’t hold the same lilt of amusement it used to. Renjun realised that Jeno was unsure of where they stood - he didn’t know if he was allowed to make jokes, even if they were at Mark’s expense. 

Renjun felt the sudden urge to comfort Jeno, to let him know that he wasn’t so angry anymore. Renjun felt the urge, but he had to resist it. If he didn’t stop himself from acting like a giggling school girl now, he’d be hopeless when it came to having a serious discussion with Jeno. Not that he wanted to have that sort of conversation whilst mildly tipsy in the middle of his friend’s birthday. Not yet. There was always Jaemin’s birthday, which was only a week or two round the corner, but perhaps that would be a little bit too on the nose, even for Renjun.

“Yeah, you managed to dodge that bullet,” he muttered, not turning to face Jeno as he prepared himself for the disaster they were about to create.

As it turned out, disaster was already afoot and very much thriving by the time Renjun returned to the living room with Jeno in tow. No one even batted an eyelid as they entered the room, with everyone already far too preoccupied with what seemed to be the aforesaid round of body shots. To Renjun’s surprise, Donghyuck was the one spread across the kitchen counter, red faced and blinking as he watched Mark confidently lick a stripe up his naked torso, gathering the grains of salt on his tongue. Almost everyone else watched as the scene before them unfolded, some in amusement (Jaemin), some in disgust (Yangyang) and some in barely concealed excitement (Mark’s basketball bros), whilst others had simply chosen to ignore the absolute debauchery in the kitchen and make out sloppily in a corner instead (Yukhei and Yuqi). 

Renjun stood somewhere in between Jaemin and Yangyang on the scale of emotional turmoil. On the one hand, he was pleased to see that Donghyuck had finally given into Mark’s ridiculous puppy eyes, which on its own was rather funny. On the other, his two friends were making weird, bemused, horny eye contact in front of their entire friend group, and honestly it kind of made Renjun want to vomit. Seriously, they needed to get a room. Donghyuck and Mark were literally already in their own apartment, so really, they didn't have an excuse not to. 

“I think I would have preferred Justin to this,” Jeno sighed, just loud enough for Renjun to hear, and just funny enough to force Renjun into holding back another smile. 

“I agree,” Renjun sighed back, his lip curling in disgust when Mark skipped the shot of tequila altogether and dove straight for the wedge of lime resting between Donghyuck’s lips. That seemed to be the final straw for the audience, because a chorus of disgusted groans echoed across the room. That only seemed to spur on the newly wed couple (because really, those two had been married for years already), and before long, the crowd broke as everyone returned to their previous drunken activities. Well, everyone but Donghyuck and Mark who disappeared into the elder’s room with nothing but the slam of a door. 

“I didn’t even get to say happy birthday,” Jeno pouted, staring forlornly at the gift bag clutched in his hands. 

“You’ve always got next year,” Renjun shrugged.

Jeno barely had the chance to breathe before an unfamiliar voice was calling his name, disturbing whatever delicate rapport he and Renjun had created. 

Renjun couldn't even deny the little smidgen of relief that appeared at the interruption, which only grew when Jeno shot him a timid smile before excusing himself. He watched as Jeno was greeted loudy by a few of the basketball guys, with hearty laughs and audible slaps on the back. 

“I didn’t know he was going to be here.”

Either Jaemin’s limbs had developed lighting speed, or Jeno was proving to be a worse distraction than he had initially thought, because Renjun was sure that his best friend had been sitting on the sofa the last he saw of him.

“Really,” Jaemin continued when Renjun failed to respond. “I promise I would have said something if I did.”

Renjun’s face softened as he watched Jaemin, who looked like he was almost pleading to be believed. He reached out a gentle hand, and took Jaemin’s in his own, squeezing it gently.

“I know,” he reassured. Jaemin’s entire body visibly slumped with relief, and he moved to rest his head on Renjun’s shoulder, nuzzling his pink hair into the side of his best friend’s neck. 

“I know you know,” Jaemin mumbled, “but I just… I’m scared I’ll mess things up again.”

“You won’t.”

Renjun reached up and began to brush his fingers through Jaemin’s hair, a strangely gentle gesture for their current setting, but one that made the younger man melt against him nonetheless. 

The music was so loud that the floor vibrated beneath them, and Renjun was surprised the neighbours hadn’t complained yet. Then, there was the added noise of Yukhei and Yangyang yelling about a- wait, did one of them just say something about a pet lizard? Finally, to top it all off, a huddle of the basketball bros were cheering on their friend as he downed what was either a pint of water or straight vodka - Renjun couldn't be entirely sure, but he would bet money on the latter. 

“Someone’s staring at you.”

Renjun stilled. If Jaemin had meant Jeno, he would have said so, but he hadn’t, which could only mean that they were being watched by a stranger. 

“Who?” he asked, scanning the room.

“That guy standing beside the plant,” Jaemin said, lifting his head from Renjun’s shoulder to glare across the room with narrowed eyes. 

Jaemin was right. There  _ was  _ a guy standing beside the plant, dark haired with a beer in hand, and he  _ was  _ looking in their direction. Renjun thought he might have been the guy that called Jeno away, but all of Mark’s friends kind of looked the same; tall, dark, handsome. This guy ticked all three boxes, and if Renjun wasn’t so terribly hung up on Jeno, he would probably be flattered by the attention.

“Are you sure he’s not staring at you?” he suggested, tearing his eyes from the stranger. Jaemin was handsome, with his dyed hair and pretty smile. Renjun could hardly blame the guy for admiring from afar. 

Jaemin dismissed him immediately, vehemently shaking his head. “No, I’ve noticed him watching you for most of the night.”

“Well, that doesn't sound at all ominous,” Renjun drawled sarcastically, worriedly glancing in the stranger’s direction. He was shocked to find that the guy had disappeared in the last few seconds and had been replaced by none other than Jeno himself.

“Loverboy to the rescue,” Jaemin giggled, and only then did Renjun realise just how drunk his best friend was. 

Deciding to ignore Jeno for the time being, Renjun began ushering a flushed Jaemin towards the kitchen. 

“Come on, let’s get you some water,” he offered, not waiting for a reply before he was tugging Jaemin over to the fridge and grabbing the nearest bottle. 

Jaemin made the smallest sound of protest, but eventually acquiesced and unscrewed the bottle lid with little finesse, sending it bouncing across the kitchen like a ping pong ball. 

“Whoops! Sorry,” Jaemin snickered, not sounding apologetic in the least. 

“I was gone for, like, five minutes max. When did you get so drunk?” Renjun wondered aloud. Jaemin merely shrugged and guzzled down at least half the water in one go. That was seemingly somewhat of a mistake, because Jaemin’s face quickly paled.

“Think I’m gonna be sick,” he ground out before clumsily stumbling towards the empty bathroom. 

Renjun just sighed and thumped his head back against the fridge door. He wasn’t overly concerned about Jaemin. Not yet, at least. It was almost tradition at this point: Jaemin drank his beer too fast, got drunk too fast, and ended up hugging the toilet bowl before the night had even started. If Jaemin hadn’t left the bathroom by the time Renjun wanted to leave, then maybe he’d start to get a little worried. Until then, he should probably figure out the best plan for avoiding Jeno.

“Sorry, can I get in there?”

And Miss Universe was back at it again, destroying any and all hope Renjun had for a peaceful night. 

There was a strange sense of deja vu about the whole scene, with Renjun blocking the fridge and Jeno wanting in. It was like last Halloween all over again. It was even the same fridge, unless Donghyuck had replaced it in the last few months, which was highly unlikely. Fortunately there was no vampire in sight this time, real or otherwise.

“Uh, sure,” Renjun nodded, awkwardly sliding off the fridge door to allow Jeno in. He hovered uncomfortably for a moment, unsure of what to do with himself as Jeno opened the fridge door with a jingle, the glass bottles rattling against one another. Renjun glanced around for his own drink, but he couldn’t remember where he had put it before going to the toilet almost an hour before. 

Just as Jeno moved to shut the fridge, clutching a bottle of fruit cider, he looked up at Renjun with a question in his eyes. 

“Do you… would you like one too?” he asked, holding up his unopened drink. Renjun couldn't do anything but stare for a few seconds, eyes fixed on Jeno’s fingers curling around the bottle, damp and dripping with condensation. 

“Okay,” he eventually accepted, not expecting Jeno to hand him the drink already in his hands instead of grabbing Renjun a new one. His fingers fumbled with the slippery bottle for a moment, and Jeno either didn’t notice or just decided not to laugh at him.

Once they both had their drinks in hand, there was nothing left to say. Renjun didn't know whether to stay and hope that Jeno left of his own volition, or leave Jeno behind in favour of rejoining the party. The former was hardly the most reliable of options, and something about the latter just made Renjun feel sort of sad. 

In the end, Jeno decided on the plan of action.

“Did you maybe want to, like… talk?”

Oh. So they were doing this. Here. Now. 

“Um,” Renjun started, blinking at Jeno with wide eyes. Jeno blinked back, looking like he was just as surprised with himself. 

“Or not,” he added hastily, peeling distractedly at the label on his bottle. “Only if you want to.”

Renjun considered it. Was now the ideal time to be doing this? Well, the answer to that question was indisputably no. Was this also the only chance they’d have to do this for the foreseeable future? Also no, but that would mean having to contact Jeno to then schedule a time and place to talk which seemed infinitely more awkward. 

“Maybe not here,” Renjun finally suggested, frowning when Jeno’s face drooped.

“Okay,” Jeno nodded sadly, and Renjun realised his mistake. 

“I didn’t mean not  _ now _ ,” Renjun rushed to clarify. “I just meant not in Donghyuck’s kitchen.”

An embarrassed flush crept onto Jeno’s cheeks, and he bit his lip abashedly. 

“Ah. Right. Where did you want to go then? Did you have somewhere in mind?”

☼

Renjun hadn’t imagined this conversation taking place under the watchful eyes of Donghyuck’s coveted Michael Jackson poster, but he supposed that life didn’t always go as planned. His own life was a testament to that statement. 

“Is there a reason Hyuck stuck that to the ceiling or…” Jeno trailed off, gazing up at the poster with what could only be described as pure, unadulterated fear.

“If there is, I don’t want to know,” Renjun shuddered, glancing around Donghyuck’s room only to find that the rest was just as bad. The bed had been left rumpled and unmade, a small but impressive collection of plates and cups sat beside it, and what looked to be about a month’s worth of laundry had been carelessly tossed into a towering mountain in Donghyuck’s gaming chair. All in all, Renjun had never felt the desire to clean so strongly in his entire life. 

But, that would have to wait. There was already another mess that required a little clean up of its own.

Jeno contemplated the bed for a moment before gingerly pinching the sheets between his fingers and tugging them until the mattress was covered neatly. Smart move. There wasn't really anywhere else to sit in Donghyuck’s room besides the floor, and Renjun would much rather risk perching on the end of his bed than finding out how many layers of floorboard dust had gone unvacuumed.

Once they were both settled, reluctantly sitting on Donghyuck’s bed, Renjun decided that there was no point in beating around the bush.

“So…” he started, gaining Jeno’s attention, who still looked mildly terrified. Whether it was the poster or the prospect of this inevitable conversation, Renjun didn't know. “You said you wanted to talk. Let’s talk.”

The music hadn’t gotten much quieter since they’d shut Donghyuck’s door, and the heavy bass pulsed through the walls with unreckonable force. Despite the volume of the party, Renjun still heard Jeno let out a shaky breath, one that told of his nerves and practically put his entire heart on display.

“I’m really sorry,” he eventually said. “I fucked up big time, and I hurt you, which is the last thing I ever wanted to happen. I was just…” Jeno paused, distractedly picking at a hangnail. “I was just really fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, just a bit,” Renjun sighed candidly. Jeno hardly even flinched, shoulders slumping guiltily instead.

“I’m not very good at this, am I?” Jeno snorted humorlessly. 

Renjun turned to face him, his brow curling into a sympathetic frown. “No, not really. But you’re trying, and that’s what matters.”

It was strange. Renjun had thought that he would be the one needing comforted, but it seemed that this entire debacle had affected Jeno just as much as him. Whilst Renjun had felt hurt by the lies, Jeno was hurt because he had caused Renjun pain and didn’t know how or even  _ if  _ he could fix it. 

The younger man looked so incredibly uncomfortable that Renjun considered taking pity on him and calling the whole thing off. 

“Look, I know you suggested this, but we don’t have to talk right now-”

“No, that wouldn’t be fair on either of us,” Jeno quickly interrupted, but not unkindly. His voice trembled a little, and Renjun could tell that it was taking all of his courage to spit the words out. “I’ve been putting this off for far too long. I should have told you the truth months ago, but I’ve been acting like a pathetic fucking coward this entire time.”

That was maybe a little harsh, but Renjun knew how it felt to make a mistake, and how difficult it was to forgive yourself for it. He remained silent, giving Jeno the chance to put his thoughts into words. 

Jeno broke the silence with a self-deprecating laugh. “I should have just told you how I felt. I should have just accepted the rejection and moved on with my life. If I had, there would've been no need to lie, you wouldn’t have been hurt and then maybe we’d be friends by now.”

Renjun’s mouth popped open. Rejection? What the fuck was Jeno going on about?

“You should have told me,” Renjun agreed, and Jeno’s gaze stayed trained on his own hands. “But you also shouldn’t assume things. That’s not fair.”

“Shit, I-I’m so sorry,” Jeno stuttered, looking like he was seconds away from throwing himself out of Donghyuck’s window. “That was stupid of me to say. We don’t have to be friends, I was just-”

“Lee Jeno,” Renjun butted in, cutting the younger man off, “you are the biggest idiot I have ever met in my entire life, and I have personally seen Yukhei drive half way down a street before realising he was going in reverse the whole time.”

Jeno’s mouth clamped shut and his eyes grew to twice their usual size. Renjun would have found the look of shock on his face amusing if he wasn't already so fed up. 

“What?” Jeno squeaked, only mildly affronted. 

“Dear god, and I thought I was oblivious,” Renjun mumbled, rubbing a frustrated hand across his face. An oddly fitting yell sounded from the living room, and Renjun didn’t think he had ever related to a sound so much. It briefly made him wonder what was going on out there, but he would have time to worry about his friends’ wellbeing later on.

Renjun twisted around on the bed until his entire torso faced Jeno, who was watching Renjun with a wary look in his eyes. 

“It looks like I’m going to have to spell this out for you,” Renjun announced, fixing Jeno with a determined stare. His hands felt clammy and his stomach turned in anticipation. 

_ Here goes nothing. _

“Jeno, I like you.”

There. He had said it. Now it was up to Jeno to do whatever he wanted with that information.

“Hngh,” was the only response Renjun ended up getting, a strangled groan that told nothing of Jeno’s actual feelings and only forced Renjun to reconsider everything he had said, because what if he had read things wrong? What if Jeno had decided that being friends was better than being, say, boyfriends? What if-

“Renjun, you can’t just say things like that.”

Jeno’s face was an incredible shade of pink; a rosy flush that dusted his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“What?”

“You can’t just suddenly tell me you like me,” he explained to a bewildered Renjun. “This is supposed to be my apology, not your confession.”

“Oh,” Renjun blinked. “Sorry.”

“Why are  _ you  _ apologising?”

Jeno didn’t sound angry, but he didn’t sound very happy either. Honestly, Renjun couldn’t tell if they were now supposed to be arguing. 

“Um, for ruining your apology? And for leaving Italy without telling you? That was actually a pretty shitty thing to do.”

Jeno winced, and his jaw unclenched. Renjun kind of wanted to hug him. 

“Yeah, maybe,” he shrugged, although he sounded a lot more like he cared than he looked, “but I get why you did it. Sometimes running away is the best option.”

Renjun’s nose scrunched in disagreement. “Hyuck told me you cried. That doesn’t sound like I made the right decision.”

Maybe now wasn’t the right time to expose Donghyuck for his inability to keep what was quite obviously meant to be a secret, but Renjun’s brain-to-mouth filter was nowhere to be found. He felt a little bad when Jeno ducked his head, trying yet failing to hide the flash of suffering in his eyes.

“If Lee Donghyuck had the time or the motivation, he would probably write a novel detailing each and every one of my most embarrassing moments,” he sighed, and Renjun couldn’t help but smile wryly. 

“Jeno, I don’t think that the fact you cried is embarrassing. I scared you. It was a perfectly normal reaction,” he assured, silently aching to reach out and hold Jeno’s hand in his own. “And anyway, I cried too, so I think that makes us even.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Jeno confessed, staring at Renjun, his face an open book. 

Renjun almost hated how easily Jeno could display his emotions, because it was beginning to mess with not only his head, but his emotions too.

“I know.”

Something sounding like a bottle smashing could be heard just outside the bedroom door, followed by a muffled thud. And then:

“Huang Renjun, if you so much as even think about fucking Jeno in my room, I will not hesitate to castrate you both!”

By some miracle, Donghyuck sounded ten times drunker than he had when Mark was licking salt off his stomach - a magnificent feat, truly. Unfortunately, Renjun could not enjoy the amusement that came with Drunk Donghyuck, because Drunk Donghyuck had just single-handedly ruined any hopes of continuing his talk with Jeno by humiliating Renjun more than he had ever been humiliated in his whole life. 

Jeno coughed - something between a sob and a laugh - whilst Renjun glared daggers at the door, wishing he could beam lasers from his eyes and burn Donghyuck’s smug face off. 

Then, before Renjun could even begin plotting Donghyuck’s demise, there was another thud at the door. 

“Junnie! Can we go home now?,” Jaemin’s voice rang, his words coming out whiny and slurred. “I just threw up a lot. Like, _ a lot _ a lot.”

Renjun’s eyes slid shut as he groaned quietly. Jeno laughed softly beside him, not looking nearly as put out. 

“I take it that’s your cue to leave,” he said, shooting Renjun a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah,” he nodded, begrudgingly getting onto his feet. “Sorry,” he added apologetically, but Jeno brushed him off with a shake of his head. 

“It’s fine. We can try this another time. You should probably head home before Jaemin sets himself up in the bath for the night.”

Renjun let himself smile at that. “Sure.” He paused, before shyly adding “Text me?”

Jeno was obviously surprised, but he quickly recovered, a genuine grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“Yeah, I’ll text you.”

With a final goodbye, Renjun left the room only to immediately stumble over Jaemin, his long legs stretched out across the floor. He looked up at Renjun, beaming crookedly. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick again.”

☼

The next morning, a mildly hungover Renjun awoke to find a stranger standing in his kitchen.

“Um, hello?” he greeted warily, and the tall figure startled, turning to face Renjun with a seriously panicked look in his eyes. 

Who was this man-child and why did he look like he was trying to get out rather than break in?

“Hi,” the stranger squeaked. Then winced. Then cleared his throat. “I mean, hello.”

Renjun merely stared at him. “Do I know you?”

The stranger’s eyes widened, and he frantically glanced around the kitchen as though in search for an escape route, before his gaze returned to Renjun. “Oh your, uh, your flatmate brought me back here last night.”

Now that he mentioned it, this young man did seem familiar, although as hard as Renjun tried, he couldn’t recall having seen him at Mark’s. Odd.

“Do you want a coffee or something?” Renjun offered, although he kept his guard up because the possibility of this stranger being a serial killer was low, but not non-existent. “Jaemin probably won’t be up for a while.”

Curiously, the stranger looked almost horrified by Renjun’s suggestion and unhesitatingly shook his head. Either he absolutely hated coffee, or the prospect of seeing Jaemin before midday terrified him.

“Thanks, but I should probably get going,” he mumbled. Something niggled at Renjun’s brain. This guy really was familiar. He was sure he had seen him somewhere before. But where?

“Alright,” Renjun shrugged, stopping himself before his eyes narrowed scrutinisingly at this scared, oversized human.

With nothing more than a squeaked goodbye, the tall boy all but sprinted from the room, tripping over his own feet several times before barrelling through the front door.

Renjun stood there, unmoving, his gaze fixed on the spot the stranger had been standing in seconds before. “Hope you have a nice day.”

Just as Renjun had predicted, Jaemin didn’t make an appearance until well into the afternoon, his pink hair defying gravity as several clumps stood vertically on his head.

“You had fun last night,” Renjun commented, sipping pointedly on his coffee as an episode of  _ Hotel Del Luna _ murmured on the tv screen.

The only response he got was a pained groan from Jaemin, who gracelessly tumbled onto the sofa and buried his face in the cushions.

“You might not want to talk about it, but I certainly have some questions about the strange man I found in our kitchen this morning.”

Jaemin lifted his head from the sofa, eyes blinking blearily up at Renjun. “That’s not very nice. Sure, Jeno’s a little odd, but I think it’s a bit unfair to call him a strange man.”

He was given little warning before Renjun lifted the nearest cushion and smacked it in his face. Renjun wasn’t sure if the act of violence was down to his lingering hangover or his bitterness over Jaemin forcing him to leave his conversation with Jeno unfinished.

“Idiot. I’m not talking about Jeno.”

“You’re not?”

“No. Of course not. We left Mark’s before he did.”

“We did?”

“Yes. So, what  _ I  _ would like to know is who that stranger was, and while we’re on the topic, where on earth did you find him? He looked familiar but I couldn’t place him.”

Jaemin’s answer was preceded by a shuddering sigh, muffled by the cushions yet again. He mumbled something that Renjun couldn’t quite make out, his voice coming out as nothing but a strangled groan.

“Oh my god, you’re pathetic,” Renjun laughed, nudging Jaemin with his toe until the younger man was squirming and had to lift his head from the sofa just so he could breathe.

Once he had his breath back, Jaemin turned to face Renjun with a humiliated pout. He hesitated for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish until he finally muttered:

“He’s the One Direction neighbour.”

Renjun blinked. “The what?”

“You know, the one that blasts  _ What a Feeling _ at three in the morning every time the landlady leaves for the night?”

Renjun did know. He also knew (although that was now up for debate) that Jaemin harboured an intense dislike for said neighbour – as did Renjun – after many a night spent with earphones plugged in at full blast or pillows pulled over their heads with suffocating force.

“He was in our kitchen,” Renjun realised, annoyed that he hadn’t recognised their neighbour on the spot. “I should’ve beaten him up while I had the chance.”

“No, don’t hurt Sungie! He didn’t mean to disturb us.”

“What the fuck is a Sungie?” Renjun practically seethed, threateningly eyeing the fork lying on the drying rack beside the kitchen sink. He knew where that little cretin lived. All he had to do was pick an effective weapon and-

“We’ve been over this. Jisung’s our neighbour,” Jaemin whined, stretching out across the sofa like a sleepy cat.

“Are you sure that’s all he is?”

Jaemin’s cheeks burned red. “At the moment.”

“Well, what the fuck happened last night?” Renjun queried, face scrunching up as he tried to remember seeing  _ Sungie _ at any point after he had dropped Jaemin face down on his bed.

“I can’t remember everything, per se,” Jaemin explained, his face still pink with the remnants of his embarrassed blush. “But I do recall ending up in the hallway outside the apartment some time after you had gone to bed.” His brow furrowed and a grimace tugged at his mouth. “I actually think I might have been crying when Jisung found me.”

Renjun’s face softened. “Crying?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was because Mrs Kwon’s cat ignored me – again – but I couldn’t exactly tell Jisung that.”

Renjun’s face hardened again. When would Jaemin’s tears spill for something that actually made sense? 

“Had you even spoken to him before last night?” Renjun asked resignedly. It was an honest question too, rather than an interrogation. 

Until now, Renjun thought that the only time Jaemin had interacted with their neighbour was to bang on his door and tell him to shut the fuck up because _ Midnight Memories _ did not actually have to be played at midnight. 

The sheepish look returned to Jaemin’s face as his mouth pulled itself into a hesitant smile.

“Um, a few times. We met out at the rubbish disposal while you were away and kind of got talking.”

“How romantic,” Renjun muttered under his breath. Jaemin’s renewed blush was a tell-tale sign that he’d heard Renjun’s comment.

“It was not. I have standards, thank you very much.”

Renjun was not convinced. “You voluntarily invited your least favourite neighbour into our home.”

“I did, didn’t I,” Jaemin sighed, sounding nauseatingly wistful. “Well, it’s not my fault he’s cute. What - did you expect me to  _ not  _ start up a strangely charged argument with him in front of the recycling bin that soon developed into a discussion about climate change?”

“Yes,” Renjun said, completely straight-faced. “Who even does that?”

“Me,” Jaemin grinned, followed by a groan when his eyes caught a particularly nasty ray of afternoon sunlight. Renjun smacked him with a cushion again, ignoring Jaemin’s dramatic howl of pain in favour of picking up his coffee. 

They calmed down after that, both of them quickly becoming invested in the story playing out on screen. Jaemin left to get his own coffee and returned with a pep in his step, although his hair still made him look like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. 

It got to a particularly gripping scene when the caffeine finally kicked in.

“Wouldn’t it be great if life was like a drama?”

Renjun glanced at his best friend, disappointed but not surprised. “No, I do not. Someone literally just died.”

“Well, obviously I didn’t mean that kind of drama,” Jaemin argued, ruffling his disheveled hair. Renjun itched to get him a hairbrush. “A romance one, on the other hand... Now that’s where it’s at.”

“You’re saying that as if you aren’t currently in the midst of your own enemies to lovers storyline,” Renjun pointed out. 

Jaemin didn’t even bother trying to combat that because, of course, Renjun was right. 

What he was unknowingly wrong about, however, was the idea that he was off the hook completely. With Jaemin as his best friend, Renjun should have known better. 

“Oh, by the way,” the younger man piped up, propping his elbow up on the armrest, “a little birdy told me that you and Jeno disappeared together for quite some time last night.”

The implication was clear in Jaemin’s tone and, quite frankly, Renjun was offended. He also silently vowed to punch Donghyuck the next time they saw each other. Little birdy his foot. How his friend had remembered even a single detail from the previous night was a mystery to Renjun.

“Yeah,  _ to talk _ ,” he said, making it perfectly clear to Jaemin that whatever he thought happened had most certainly had not. “Your little birdy isn’t very reliable.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Jaemin smirked teasingly. “Or whoever, I’m not one to judge.”

Renjun glared at his friend. “Do not test me. I will throw you out for Mrs Kwon’s cat to find without a single moment of hesitation.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. That just means I’d get to spend more time with Sungie.”

“I  _ will  _ vomit on you.”

☼

Much to Renjun’s surprise, Jeno texted him later that day:

_ hey :) _

Even more surprising, Renjun actually replied despite the fact Jeno hadn’t really given him much to work with. How was he expected to reply to that? Where exactly did their relationship stand in terms of texting? Should he be friendly or flirty? Responsive or hard to get? How many smiley faces constituted too many?

In the end, he followed Jeno’s text up with a simple  _ hi, _ because Renjun was nothing if not awkward. He had texted Jeno before in the past, but as he scrolled back through their messaging history, he realised that most of them related to Jaemin’s schedule, interrupted only by an exchange of banking details after a mass order of pizzas back in January. 

Their relationship was very much undefined at the moment, their brief conversation not clearing up very much other than that they were both incredibly apologetic, and the feelings they had for each other were mutual. Probably.

As soon as Renjun hit send, he threw his phone across his bed in the hopes he could forget about it until Jeno replied, but completely miscalculated the distance and sent it skidding across the floor instead. By the time he dashed across the room and picked up his now freshly scratched phone, Jeno had already sent his response. 

_ sorry if this is a bit random but do you happen to have my grey hoodie? _

Oh. That wasn’t what Renjun had been expecting, but he probably shouldn't have had any expectations to begin with. It wasn’t as though Jeno would suddenly start bombarding him with love poems through their phones. Not that Renjun would actually like that or anything.

His eyes jumped to his suitcase, still lying open on his floor, still half full. There, on the very top, lay Jeno’s hoodie. Renjun hadn’t realised it was even there until last week when he finally rifled through the mess he had created in his rush to leave the hotel. The fact that he hadn’t done anything about returning the hoodie before now was vaguely embarrassing, but Renjun hadn't been able to bring himself to get rid of it, selfishly hoping that Jeno would suddenly appear out of nowhere to retrieve it. 

Of course, that never ended up happening, and instead Renjun had been left to stare longingly at the piece of grey fabric for the better part of a week. The leap of his heart upon reading Jeno’s text was actually quite pathetic in the grand scheme of things, as was the speed at which he typed out a responding text.

_ just checked and it looks like it got mixed up with my stuff lol _

Renjun paused, chewing his lip thoughtfully before he started typing again.

_ i could always drop it off whenever you’re free _

Just like before, Renjun didn’t have a chance to feel even remotely panicked because Jeno’s reply was almost instantaneous. 

_ that would be great! i’ll be home all day _

_ here’s my address _

Jeno’s habit of double texting was far from irritating, but it did send Renjun into a moderate state of shock every time another message came through, his sweaty hands almost losing their grip every time his phone vibrated. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so nervous whilst texting someone, but it made sense that Jeno had this effect on Renjun. He wasn’t like any of the other people Renjun had liked in the past, and the way Jeno made him feel was proof of that.

Heart pounding and blood rushing in his ears, Renjun sent his reply with shaking hands. One would think that he was readying himself for a first date rather than a trip to drop off his crush’s hoodie. 

But it was more than that. It was more than just a crush. The feelings Renjun had for Jeno ran far deeper than that, and that fucking terrified him. 

Letting out a deep breath, Renjun rolled onto his front, burrowed his face into the pillow, and screamed. 

☼

Jeno’s apartment was a lot nicer than Renjun and Jaemin’s. It was void of mugs with leftover coffee welded to the bottom for a start, the front door didn’t squeak obnoxiously every time it opened, and the books on the shelf beside his sofa were organised alphabetically. It also probably helped that Jeno lived alone and didn’t have a slob of a flatmate messing up every surface as soon as it had been cleaned. 

Whilst that certainly contributed to the lack of mess, it also meant that Renjun and Jeno were very much alone. Not that that meant anything would happen. That wasn’t why Renjun was here.

He held the bag containing Jeno’s hoodie in a white-knuckled grip, eyes focused on the line of Jeno’s shoulders as he led Renjun into the apartment. 

“Do you want a drink or something?” Jeno offered, gesturing towards the kitchen with a gentle smile. Renjun’s mouth suddenly felt a little dry. 

“Um, water would be great,” he croaked, clearing his throat abashedly when Jeno gave him a strange look. 

“Sure. Make yourself at home,” Jeno called over his shoulder as he headed for the fridge.

Renjun had never really understood that saying: make yourself at home. Everyone had different definitions of home, and he was fairly certain that Jeno would be pretty horrified if Renjun suddenly rid himself of his socks and jeans, and took over his entire bed for a few hours. 

Just to be on the safe side of decency, Renjun only removed his coat, gingerly resting it on the back of the sofa to let the faint scattering of raindrops dry off. It had been fairly gloomy all day, but the rain had held off until the moment Renjun left his apartment. Maybe it was the universe getting back at him for lying to Jaemin about where he was going, which was hardly fair because how could anyone be expected to endure the inescapable amount of teasing that would surely follow his honesty.

Ironically, now that Renjun was safely inside, the rain looked to have reduced to a light drizzle, pattering gently off the window panes. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but it wouldn't be long until the sky turned indigo and the streetlights began to cast their yellow lights along the rain slicked streets. If Renjun wasn’t on his way home by that point, then he’d better be dead - there was no excuse for him to spend more than fifteen minutes tops at Jeno’s, and even that seemed excessive. He was only dropping off a hoodie, after all. 

Jeno returned from the kitchen with a bottle of water in each hand and a small smile on his face.

“Here you go,” he said, offering Renjun the drink as he sat in the seat beside him.

“Thanks.” 

Renjun felt strangely stiff, sitting on Jeno’s sofa without anyone else in sight to act as a distraction. Donghyuck wasn't around to make lewd jokes (probably too busy shoving his tongue down Mark’s throat instead), nor was Jaemin likely to interrupt them any time soon (probably too busy still crying over Hotel Del Luna). Was this Jeno’s way of continuing their conversation from the previous night? If so, it was working. Here Renjun was, ready to do or say pretty much anything Jeno asked him to. He blamed his current state of emotional weakness on the hangover, ignoring the fact he hadn’t actually drank all that much at Mark’s party and that even if he had, most of the alcohol would have left his system by this point. 

“Oh!” Renjun quietly exclaimed, placing his unopened bottle on the glass coffee table before reaching for the bag at his feet. He slid it across the floor until it rested on the floor just in front of Jeno. “Your hoodie.”

“Ah, thanks,” Jeno smiled, reaching into the bag and pulling the article of clothing out with a loud rustle. 

“I washed and dried it before bringing it over,” Renjun explained, suddenly feeling irrationally timid. It was highly unlikely that Jeno would judge his choice of detergent. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Jeno shook his head. “Not at all. It kind of smells like- it smells nice.”

Renjun felt unusually pleased by Jeno’s compliment, no matter its strangeness, and that’s when he knew he was in too deep. 

How many  _ oh shit _ moments was one person allowed to have? Because this certainly qualified as one. Actually, this was the worst one yet. 

Oh shit, indeed. 

“I should probably go,” Renjun blurted, startling Jeno who had his hoodie halfway over his head. 

“Already?” he asked, his voice a little muffled through the fabric until his head popped through the top. Renjun wasn’t sure if it was his ears playing tricks on him, but he thought he detected a note of disappointment on Jeno’s part. 

“Yeah, I’m Hungover Jaemin’s only hope,” Renjun joked awkwardly, slipping his arms back through the sleeves of his damp coat. “I need to make sure he’s still alive.”

It wasn't a complete lie, but it was definitely a stretch of the truth. If anything, Jaemin was probably asleep by now, undoubtedly dead to the world for at least the next twelve hours.

“Oh, okay,” Jeno nodded understandingly, although he did look a little miffed about Renjun’s sudden departure. He followed Renjun down the hall as he rushed to find his shoes, slipping them on so quickly he surprised even himself. 

They stood there for a moment, hovering in front of the door as they both waited for the other to say something. 

Jeno spoke first. “Thanks for bringing back my hoodie.”

Renjun drummed his fingers against the top of his thigh. “No problem.”

Neither of them made a move to do anything other than just stand there, chancing a look when they thought the other wouldn't notice. 

Renjun’s  _ oh shit _ moment had managed to shift everything in a matter of minutes, and suddenly he had the almost irresistible urge to kiss Jeno. Sure, it was always kind of there, floating dreamily in the back of Renjun’s mind like a lost paddle in the middle of the ocean, but now… now it was like a shark closing in, and Renjun either had the choice to try and swim away, or let the shark take him. 

He went with the former before he could consider the latter any further. 

“Well, I’ll see you later,” he said, mouth set in a firm line as he reached for the door handle.

“You will?”

Jeno sounded so incredibly hopeful that Renjun’s heart ached. He hadn’t meant to say that, not really, but he couldn’t pass it off as a Freudian slip because he  _ had _ meant it. He did want to see Jeno, as much and as often as he could.

So, with the beginnings of a shy smile, Renjun nodded. “I will.”

Then, he pushed down on the handle and slipped out of the apartment. If Renjun spent the whole walk home thinking about the tiny smile on Jeno’s face as he left, then so be it. 

So be it, because Renjun was starting to fall in love.


	6. you're the only one who knows me, babe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! welcome to the final chapter - for real this time!!
> 
> sorry it took so long for me to update but this one turned into a monster length-wise (this is literally 19k words 😭). i had to restart this chapter so many times before i could get anywhere close to finishing it, but it’s finally done! i’ve never had a solid outline for this fic and i kind of just write whatever i want as i go along, so even i didn't know how this story would end, but i hope you enjoy reading this one. (also this is the first time i have ever written anything even remotely *spicy* so please be nice hehe)
> 
> thank you all so much for your patience and support, it means so much!! <3

Renjun was drunk. Really drunk. Like, Jaemin at a party kind of drunk. 

His head spun, like he’d just stepped off the world’s most nauseating rollercoaster, his teeth felt strange and fuzzy inside his mouth, and walking in a straight line was a far more strenuous task than he remembered it ever being. 

It probably didn’t help that Jaemin was just as drunk, hanging off Renjun’s shoulder like a barnacle stuck to the side of a boat as they stumbled towards the open doors of a taxi. 

“This ‘s the best birthday ever,'' Jaemin slurred cheerfully, lifting his flushed face from Renjun’s shoulder to show off a lopsided grin, all crooked and toothy. 

“Me too,” Renjun hummed, without a single care that his response didn’t make any sense whatsoever. 

Jaemin either wasn’t listening or was simply too drunk to notice, giggling nonsensically when he almost tripped over his own foot. How either of them had managed to get into conditions such as this, Renjun couldn’t recall. 

The night had started off rather tamely, with Renjun and Jaemin meeting the rest of their friends at a local bar for a few drinks. Donghyuck and Mark had already been there upon their arrival and if their flushed cheeks were anything to go by, they were at least three drinks in. Jaemin had managed to catch up with the couple by the time Yangyang arrived, tired and sluggish after his long shift at a nearby coffee shop. 

After that, things got a little blurry. Renjun remembered refusing a round of shots, but he also remembered accepting a mysterious drink from Yangyang which probably contained as much alcohol as the tiny glasses of tequila. Then, there were only brief flashes of the night’s events; Mark and Donghyuck getting told off by the bartender for PDA, something not uncharacteristic of them; the echoing screeching and flashing lights of a noraebang; Jaemin curling over a toilet bowl whilst Renjun hovered beside him with a shot glass of water to hand. 

Renjun had no idea how they had gotten from point A to point E(?), or how many things had happened in between, but something in his muddled brain told him that he had been the one to call the taxi. It was reassuring to know that even in the most inebriated of states Renjun could maintain at least a portion of his usual responsibility. 

“‘S there cake at home?” Jaemin asked as they reached the cari, a dreamy look in his glassy eyes. 

“Cake?” Renjun repeated thoughtfully. Why would they have cake? They were both decent cooks but neither he nor Jaemin were particularly talented bakers. 

Jaemin nodded jerkily. “Birthday.”

Birthday? Birthday. Birthday. _Oh!_

“Happy birthday!” Renjun exclaimed, throwing his arms around Jaemin in a clumsy hug. 

“Happy birthday!” Jaemin replied, the words losing all meaning as he belted them into the street. Renjun distantly noticed that they were drawing the attention of the odd passersby and other pub-goers, but his alcohol-addled brain barely registered them. Usually he would be embarrassed by the attention, warranted or otherwise, but Renjun wasn’t usually so drunk. 

It felt like an age had passed by the time Jaemin pushed Renjun into the back of the taxi before toppling in behind him. They ended up finding themselves in an uncoordinated jumble of arms and legs that neither of them had the energy nor skill to do anything about. 

Renjun’s stomach swirled threateningly, his face felt inhumanly hot and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed with Jaemin as a human pillow. 

It was another one of Renjun’s secrets, along with his penchant for romance and brief dalliance with Yangyang; that he was an affectionate drunk. 

Sober, Renjun wasn’t overly partial to skinship. He rarely hugged his friends, hated it when Kun ruffled his hair, and generally found it difficult to initiate physical contact unless his emotions took over. 

This facet of Renjun’s personality practically disappeared once an excessive amount of alcohol had been consumed, all inhibitions thrown out of the nearest window. It was similar to the effect Jeno had on him, one smile turning Renjun to a pile of lovesick mush.

Renjun missed Jeno.

It was a sudden thought, one that infiltrated Renjun’s drunk mind with reckoning force, but it wasn’t a sudden feeling. Not really. It had been building since the evening Renjun returned Jeno’s hoodie, but it washed over him in an unexpected rush, huddled in the back of a cramped taxi with copious amounts of alcohol swirling through his veins. 

A week felt like an awful long time to go without seeing someone, particularly someone your heart ached for every second of every day. He was distantly aware of Jaemin relaying their address to the driver, and then the car started with a jolt, forcing Renjun and Jaemin to knock against one another like toppling bowling pins. Bony elbows bumped his ribs as Jaemin slipped a hand into his pocket and slid out his phone, squinting at the bright light emanating from the screen. 

“What’re you doing?” Renjun mumbled, the words on the screen turning into black blobs as his vision went in and out of focus, like the lens of an old fashioned camera. 

Jaemin attempted to shrug, an impossible gesture in their current position. “Nothing.”

Renjun accepted the answer, having almost forgotten the question the moment he asked it. 

The taxi wound through narrow side streets, passing busy crowds of people out enjoying the warmth of the summer evening. Sweat clung to Renjun’s skin, uncomfortable and sticky, and it reminded him of the unforgiving Italian heat. 

He sighed, a loud defeated sound in the relative silence of the car. 

“Whasss wrong?” Jaemin mumbled, reaching out to pat Renjun’s head with an uncoordinated hand. 

“‘M in love with Jeno.”

If it was any other time, Renjun would have immediately clamped a hand over his mouth after letting such a secret slip. Drunk Renjun, however, did not give a flying fuck. 

It wasn’t the sobering moment he had expected it to have been. He had imagined confessing his feelings to Jaemin many times before, but it was always a difficult scene to picture and one he had never quite reached the definitive outcome of. 

Sometimes, it would go swimmingly. Jaemin would smile and congratulate Renjun on finally finding someone who deserved him, ecstatic that his initial plan from last Halloween had finally played out. Other times, it didn’t go so well, with Jaemin revealing he had fallen for Jeno and was planning on stealing him away (which was ridiculously unlikely, but overthinking tended to send Renjun’s thoughts spiralling). 

Instead, it went something like this:

“Cool. Can we have cake?”

It was another case of Renjun being unable to tell if Jaemin hadn’t heard him or just didn’t think it was a big deal. 

“Birthday cake,” Renjun nodded in agreement. 

“Happy Birthday!”

  
  


☼

  
  


The following morning was the worst kind. Renjun awoke some time in the afternoon to horrible beams of sunlight streaming directly into his eyes. His head pounded like a drum, thumping and throbbing in his skull, screaming for even a droplet of water. 

His first attempt to move was unsuccessful for two reasons: one, his stomach churned horribly, sour and rancid, and two, Jaemin had an iron clutch around his waist, his arm wrapped firmly around Renjun’s torso. 

“Off,” he grumbled, giving Jaemin’s wrist a series of sharp smacks. A groan rumbled in his ear, tired and pained. 

“I need to piss,” Renjun tried. An irritated whine. A displeased sniff. Jaemin’s arm loosened and slithered back to his side. 

Ever so slowly, Renjun let his body slide out of bed so as not to cause his poor, suffering organs any more hardships. He shuffled from his room to the toilet with tired footsteps, rubbing a fist across his sleepy eyes. 

The fluorescent light above the mirror switched on with a flickering buzz, and Renjun couldn’t help but grimace as he stared at his reflection. His hair had never looked worse, sticking up on one side whilst laying completely flat on the other. The rest of his face looked just as bad, if not worse, with pale, dry lips and dark circles resting beneath his eyes. Upon closer inspection the latter was partly down to how badly his eyeliner had smudged overnight, but it didn’t make him look any less like a brain-thirsty zombie. At times like these, he really did wonder what it was Jeno saw in him. 

As he scrubbed his face clean, Renjun made a mental note to text Jeno. They hadn’t seen each other since the night Renjun had dropped off Jeno’s hoodie before making his hasty escape upon realising just how deep his feelings ran. Needless to say, Renjun was somewhat anxious to see Jeno again. Not the bad kind of anxious, but the kind that came with a thumping heart and that weird sensation fluttering in his stomach. 

Jeno was hardly a taboo subject, not anymore, so Renjun hadn’t been surprised when he found out that the younger man had been invited along to Jaemin’s birthday celebrations. It was no secret that Jaemin and Jeno regularly kept in contact. They were friends after all, and good ones at that. Several months of fake dating did that to a friendship; established it; strengthened it; solidified it. The two of them had spent so much time together, no matter if it was ruse or reality, that it would be odd for Jaemin to suddenly cut off all contact.

In the end, Jeno hadn’t been able to make it to the bar, too caught up in reading for the upcoming semester. Renjun was almost jealous of how diligent a student Jeno was, knowing that he would wait until the last minute to even spare a glance at the reading lists for his classes. That jealousy soon transformed into pity with the thought of studying through a friend’s birthday saddening him to no end. Jeno’s degree was a difficult one as far as Renjun knew, and he didn't know much about becoming a veterinarian. 

So, as disappointed as Renjun had been upon being told that Jeno would not be attending birthday drinks, he felt a tiny flower of pride bloom somewhere inside him. 

Racoon eyes gone and teeth brushed, Renjun returned to his room with two glasses of water and a few painkillers in hand. Jaemin was still curled up on the bed, huddled amongst the blankets and snoring softly with his face squashed into the nearest pillow. With an endeared sigh, Renjun placed the water on his bedside table and slipped back under the covers, retrieving his phone from where he'd (surprisingly) hooked it up to charge the night before.

It took several, delayed seconds for Renjun to react to the most recent notification. His eyes scanned the text once. Twice. Three times. Once his sluggish brain caught up, he let out an undignified squeak, and Jaemin reacted with a disgruntled whine of his own.

“What’s wrong now?” he asked, although he didn’t sound all that interested. 

Renjun read the text one more time, just to be sure. Yep. It was still there, the black letters as stark as a tattoo inked onto skin.

“I think Jeno just asked me on a date,” he breathed, gaze stuck to the screen of his phone.

_hi_

_if you’re not busy this weekend, would you want to go out with me?_

“That’s good,” Jaemin pointed out, supporting his weight on one of his elbows as he peered at Renjun’s screen. “Why’re you frowning?”

Vague memories of drunken complaints about his lack of actual dates in his supposed dating life flickered to the front of Renjun’s mind.

“Do you think he can read minds?” 

“No,” Jaemin snorted, unlocking his own phone and tapping around the screen, “but I do think that he can read the texts I sent him last night. “

Renjun’s panicked thoughts skidded to a halt. “Huh?”

“Yeah, apparently drunk Jaemin was very proactive in getting you a date,” Jaemin laughed, stretching his arm so that Renjun could see his chat history with Jeno. “You’re welcome.”

Sure enough, Jaemin had sent multiple ( _multiple!)_ jumbled texts, all of which effectively threatened Jeno into asking Renjun out, although they were near indecipherable and filled with so many typos the threats ended up losing all meaning, leaving Jeno with a barrage of messages begging him to “feefd jun cherseee”.

“Under what circumstances would Jeno have to feed me cheese?” Renjun asked with an unimpressed glare. “I’m not a mouse.”

Jaemin shrugged casually. “I don’t know, I was drunk. Tequila brings out my imagination.”

Renjun didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry. 

“Yeah, you’d need to have some imagination to think up a world in which I wanted you to practically force a man to date me. Do you know how desperate this makes me look?”

“You are desperate,” Jaemin said, eyebrow arched pointedly.

“That is not the point!” Renjun spluttered, cheeks growing red because he knew just how right Jaemin was. “I don’t want Jeno to think I’m so pathetic and cowardly I can’t ask him on a date myself.”

“Why are you yelling?” Jaemin whined, face scrunching up as he pressed a hand to his forehead. It looked like he wasn’t fairing much better than Renjun. “It worked. He asked you on a date. You just have to say yes.”

Renjun huffed.

“What - are you gonna say _no_?”

Renjun huffed again, spitefully rolling onto his side with enough force to jostle Jaemin, before bringing up his chat with Jeno and typing out a response. 

  
  


☼

“Well, this hasn’t gone to plan.”

Renjun nodded wordlessly, already preoccupied with the chattering of his teeth and the uncomfortable friction of his wet clothes rubbing against his skin.

Jeno was right, though. This had not gone to plan – this, referring to their first official date.

It had been cute, really, how excited Jeno seemed about the whole thing. He had kept it all a relative secret for the entire week, sending nothing more than a few hints over text, although Renjun had expected something very similar to what he got.

Like the hopeless romantic he was, Jeno had planned a picnic on the banks of the Han river, with the wicker basket and red-and-white gingham blanket to boot. When he turned up outside of Renjun’s apartment building earlier that afternoon the clouds were an ominous shade of grey, but Jeno had promised that it wouldn’t rain. It turned out that it was nothing but an empty promise because not half an hour later the heavens had opened (incidentally, Jeno didn’t actually possess the power to control the weather) and now the two men were huddled in Jeno’s car, shivering as the heater blew hot air onto their drenched clothes.

“Well, at least it’s not something either of us did,” Renjun stuttered around his trembling lips. He wanted to bring down the windshield mirror to check if they had turned as blue as they felt, but he didn’t want Jeno to think that he was vain. Embarrassment still lingered in the pink skin of his cheeks from the aftermath of Jaemin’s drunken attempts at matchmaking, and Renjun did not want to cause himself any further mortification where Jeno was involved. 

This was their first date after all, and first impressions mattered. Obviously this was far from their first time meeting one another, but first impressions and first date impressions were two very different things. It was unlikely that most people went into their first time meeting someone with the expectation of dating them unless, of course, the first time they met was on a date. First date impressions were built on the foundation that a relationship was potentially on the table, so Renjun had always made sure to put his best foot forward.

Now, however, he wasn’t entirely sure that his theory mattered nor applied. He and Jeno didn’t have the most typical romance story, so his typical approach to first dates probably meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

He peered down at his clothes, timidly inspecting the damage caused by the sudden torrential downpour, and his cheeks flamed when he noticed that his white t-shirt left almost nothing to the imagination. His first thought was a silent hope that Jeno hadn’t noticed. His second reprimanded the first because of how stupid it was. They had seen each other shirtless before - more than once in Jeno’s case - so really, there was no point in trying to be modest.

Whilst Renjun willed his face to return to its usual shade, Jeno was in the process of trying to retrieve a spare beach towel from the back of the car, his torso twisted at an impossible angle as he rummaged through a sports bag lying on the floor. Renjun tried not to let his eyes linger on the strip of skin left bare by the hem of Jeno’s shirt as it rode up his stomach. He failed.

“Aha!” Jeno sat upright, brandishing a threadbare and faded pink towel. “It’s not ideal but it’s better than nothing.”

He offered it to Renjun, who took it with a grateful smile.

“I’m sorry the rain ruined your plans,” Renjun apologised, ruffling the scratchy fabric through his dripping hair.

Surprisingly, Jeno’s tiny smile grew rather than faltered.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged nonchalantly, staring out of the window as the rain battered down from the clusters of heavy clouds. “It doesn’t really feel like anything’s been ruined, does it?”

Renjun paused in his hair drying. Jeno was facing him again, the look in his eyes turning hopeful.

“No.” Renjun shook his head with a smile of his own. “Not really.”

It was true. Perhaps the rain had put a bit of a dampener on everything (excuse the pun), but nothing felt ruined – it just meant that they would have to improvise.

First and foremost, though, Renjun needed to get out of his wet clothes as soon as humanly possible lest he accost Jeno with the sight of his near transparent t-shirt before they’d even so much as hugged.

Jeno seemed to agree with that sentiment, plucking at his own damp shirt with an unimpressed grimace.

“Maybe we should get some dry clothes before we go anywhere else,” he suggested shyly.

Realising that Jeno didn’t want this date to end just as much as Renjun was strangely reassuring. 

It was stupid for Renjun to think that after everything they had been through, after everything Jeno had done, that the other man no longer had any interest in him. If anything, it seemed like Jeno’s interest in him had only grown over their weeks apart, playing true to the concept of absence making the heart grow fonder.

If things ended up not working out with Jeno, Renjun would be well and truly crushed. He would end up like Jaemin during one of his drama marathons: lights off, huddled in bed, sobbing into a carton of ice cream. Every time was just as bad as a breakup, and Renjun wondered if he should reconsider all the times he had caught Jaemin crying heartbrokenly on the sofa with this context in mind.

The image made Renjun shudder, but he played it off as just another after effect from the rain, which didn’t feel like much of a ruse at all. His fingers trembled and despite a quick runover with the towel, Renjun’s hair still stuck oddly to his forehead and the nape of his neck.

He had an idea.

“My place isn’t far from here,” Renjun started, his voice wary and quiet so as not to come off too strongly. “We could always change into something dry there and then – if you want – we could still do our picnic, but rather than having the river as a view, you’ll just have to put up with all of my movie posters and Jaemin yelling at his computer screen.”

Jeno was quiet for a moment, and Renjun didn’t dare look at him, too shy and embarrassed to do much else other than pick at a loose thread on the towel and glare at the raindrops trickling down the window.

“Okay.”

Renjun whipped his head up, eyes wide as they fixed on Jeno. The younger man had a wry smile on his face, and it looked like he was trying to hold back a pleased grin. Renjun really, really wanted to kiss him.

“Cool,” he said instead, clenching his fists so he didn’t feel tempted to do something really humiliating, like throw himself across the centre console and tackle Jeno into the sloppiest kiss in history.

And so, Jeno pulled the car back onto the roads of Seoul, chattering mindlessly about some video he had seen on YouTube involving a cat and puppy meeting for the first time. It made Renjun smile (more at Jeno’s excited expression than the content of the video itself) and he let himself relax into his seat, as much as he could considering his clothes were still glued to his body.

The conversation between them flowed easily, unlike anything Renjun had ever experienced on a first date, but he had to keep reminding himself that this was different. Jeno was different; Jeno who worked weekends at a vet’s office as the receptionist, taking calls, making appointments and comforting little kids when it turned out that their pet hamster had in fact not just been taking a week-long nap. That got them talking about animals, which got Jeno talking about his love for cats, which got Renjun talking about Mrs Kwon’s little gremlin of a pet and before they knew it, they were standing outside Renjun’s apartment, calling out for little Goyangi (Renjun did not give Mrs Kwon points for creativity) and completely forgetting about their damp clothes.

They were both so concentrated on finding the cat that neither of them realised the door to the apartment had opened. Jaemin stood there, leaning against the door frame as he watched them with thinly veiled amusement.

“You do realise that thing hates everyone and everything with a burning passion,” he piped up, laughter evident in his voice when Renjun and Jeno turned to face him with matching shocked expressions. “He even hates Mrs Kwon and she’s the only reason he gets fed twice a day.”

Renjun cleared his throat awkwardly, straightening to his full height now that Jaemin had appeared instead of the cat. Jeno stood behind him, fidgeting with his hands like he always did when things got too quiet. It was then that Jaemin seemed to take notice of their soggy appearances.

“What the hell happened to you both?” he asked in astonishment, eyebrows raised as he took in the damp patches decorating their jeans and the clumps of wet hair stuck together in wet spikes.

“It rained,” Renjun deadpanned, finally pushing past Jaemin and leading Jeno into the apartment. 

“No shit Sherlock,” Jaemin snorted, shutting the door behind him and following them into the living room. He turned to Jeno. “I thought you said it wasn’t going to rain?”

Jeno blinked. “I did.”

“But it rained anyway,” Jaemin pointed out.

Jeno blinked again. “It did.”

Jaemin narrowed his eyes at him, his gaze turning scrutinising. “You are useless.”

Before things could escalate, Renjun stepped in between the two men. The look he gave Jaemin was enough for the younger man to back down.

“Really, Jaem? Really? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the protective best friend act doesn’t work here. You and Jeno literally fake dated for months.”

It looked like Renjun’s comment was enough to invoke a round of apologies from both parties, but he had had enough apologies to last at least an entire lifetime. _At least_.

“No, stop,” he interrupted, glaring at Jaemin before softening his gaze as he glanced at Jeno. “I don’t want to hear either one of you say that you’re sorry. I’m sick of it. The next person to apologise will never hear or see from me again.”

That shut them up, although Jeno’s mouth parted for a split second before he seemed to think better of it.

“We,” Renjun continued, grabbing Jeno by the arm as he stared defiantly into Jaemin’s eyes, “are on our first date, and if you do even a single thing to ruin it, I will personally walk down that hall, knock on Sungie’s door and inform him of the Crazy Golf Incident.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened several fractions. “You wouldn’t,” he gasped.

“Oh, I would.”

And with that, Renjun firmly dragged Jeno down the hall towards his room.

“What’s a Sungie?” Jeno asked, his expression telling of his befuddlement. Renjun only chuckled, and told him the story in excruciating detail. Jaemin would have his head later, but in that moment it was worth it. Anything to see Jeno smile like that was worth it. Even decapitation. Maybe.

☼

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of mildly soggy food (because the rain had suddenly decided to take on the role of sand and get _absolutely_ _everywhere_ ), easy laughter and the muffled sound of Jaemin yelling at Donghyuck and Yangyang through his gaming headset.

It wasn’t the perfect first date, but it filled Renjun with a comforting warmth he would never be able to shake, no matter how cold it got or how heavily it snowed. The rain didn’t let up the entire time he and Jeno sat on the living room floor, the picnic blanket spread messily beneath them with a few cushions scattered across it for additional comfort. They finished their food a little while later, and after tidying up their mess, they migrated to the couch where Renjun and Jeno curled up to sit through a few hours of horribly cheesy romance.

It wasn’t the perfect first date, but to Renjun it came pretty close.

Well, that was until it was time for Jeno to leave.

“I had fun today.”

He had changed from the borrowed t-shirt and sweatpants back into his own clothes, which were now dry and warm from resting on the radiator all afternoon. Renjun kind of missed seeing Jeno in his clothes, strange as that may be, even if they had been a little small. Renjun had briefly considered asking Jaemin for some pyjamas, but quickly dismissed that thought after something distinctly jealous pierced his gut. Sure, he had forgiven them both, but some things would take a little longer for him to become fully comfortable with.

“Me too,” Renjun agreed, trying not to let his face droop too morosely. It wasn’t as though this was the last he’d ever see of Jeno. They had each other’s phone numbers, they shared the same friends, and the chances of another date being on the horizon were actually looking fairly high if Renjun hadn’t become completely delusional.

“We could do this again, if you want?”

Renjun did want.

“Get caught in the rain and have a picnic on my living room floor?”

Jeno smiled, shaking his head. “We could do that.”

As nice as that sounded, Renjun had a better idea. “ _Or_ … we could go to a cat café next weekend on your day off?”

The smile Jeno sent him then was Renjun’s favourite one yet.

“I’d like that a lot,” he agreed. Renjun’s heart fluttered dangerously in his chest.

It was safe to say that what he felt for Jeno was nothing superficial. He couldn’t recall ever feeling so much at one time for another person, so overwhelmed by emotion he didn’t know what to do, what to think, how to act. It was the nice kind of overwhelming, though, like a surprise party with all of your friends, or getting straight A’s in your exams (not that Renjun had experienced either of those things, but he could imagine it). 

As he looked at Jeno, Renjun felt so consumed with everything _good_ he was hopeless to do anything about the tension permeating the air, the kind that crackled between them like a sparking wire – the kind that usually led to a kiss.

Did Jeno want to kiss him? Should Renjun make the first move? He certainly wanted to kiss Jeno, but there was something delicate about their relationship, still too breakable, and Renjun wasn't entirely sure that he was ready to move that fast just yet. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had kissed someone, which was probably for the better since it had most likely taken place in a drunken haze under the neon lights of an Itaewon night club.

For a moment, it did look like Jeno wanted to kiss him, but then a spectacularly loud yell sounded from Jaemin’s room and the moment shattered.

“Next weekend?” Jeno asked as Renjun led him to the door.

“Next weekend,” he confirmed.

☼

“Next weekend” turned out to be just as successful as the previous one. 

The cat cafe was closed in mourning for one of the elderly cats passing away, which would have moved Renjun to tears if it hadn't all been so inconvenient. Jeno also managed to take it in stride, which was either down to the fact that he worked in a vet clinic or he was incredibly good at putting up a front. 

They wandered around for a little while in search of another cafe, but all of them were either full of other couples or tear-jerkingly expensive. After almost an hour of fruitless searching, they landed on just grabbing food from a local street vendor to take down to the river like they were supposed to on their first date. 

It was a nice afternoon, but it wasn’t the most romantic date Renjun had ever been on. Sometimes he would think back to that day in Italy, the one where he and Jeno had enjoyed breakfast under the shade, followed by a trip to the art gallery. It hadn’t been an official date (no matter how much either of them wanted it to be), but it was easily the best of Renjun’s life. This so-called date - sitting on a stiff bench by the river with a small collection of street food - felt more like two friends hanging out. Renjun cherished every moment he had with Jeno down to the individual text messages they exchanged, yet he couldn't help but wish for something more in this one. 

Renjun wanted to reach for Jeno’s hand, but both of them had food balanced precariously in their palms. He wanted to move a little closer, but then their elbows would knock and that wouldn't be very convenient for eating. He wanted to press a kiss to Jeno’s cheek or his neck or his mouth, but Renjun’s breath probably tasted like garlic and there was something stuck in between his molars, irritating and unreachable without a toothpick. Renjun wanted to do something, anything to replicate that day in Italy, or even that rainy afternoon in his apartment, but he couldn't find the courage. 

The date ended rather anticlimactically, with Jeno having to leave a little early because of his shift the next morning, leaving Renjun to walk home alone. 

He relayed the events of his date to Yangyang the following afternoon, both of them taking their lunch breaks in the back room of the coffee shop. Yangyang’s boss was a pretty cool guy, albeit a little overbearing when it came to the number of sugar packets Renjun spilled into his lattes. 

“I think the universe is cockblocking you,” Yangyang hummed sagely, sipping on his iced americano with a firm nod. 

Renjun choked on the crust of his sandwich. 

“That’s not true!” he defended. 

Yangyang raised an eyebrow. “Not true as in there are no cocks to block, or not true as in you’re in denial.”

The answering silence was as deafening as a scream, and Renjun couldn't meet his friend’s eyes, the slices of tomato in his lunch suddenly proving to be of great interest. 

“That’s what I thought.”

Renjun didn’t have to look to know that Yangyang was wearing that knowing look of his, the one that told you he had it all figured out. Doyoung walked into the room for the third time since he and Yangyang had been on break, only this time he came bearing gifts. 

“Here,” he said, placing two mouthwatering plates of chocolate cake in front of them. “It looks like you need it.”

“Aren’t you always getting at us for the amount of sugar we consume?” Yangyang asked, staring up at his boss with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

Doyoung’s gaze hardened. “Do you want me to take it away?”

“No!” Renjun yelped, grabbing the plate nearest him and violently stabbing the slice of cake with a fork. He glanced at Yangyang. “Feel free to take his, though.”

The laugh that Doyoung let out was almost as funny as any joke Renjun could have made; squeaky and breathy at the same time. Renjun liked Doyoung. He reminded him a little of Kun with his predisposition to care for others, even if that was through reprimanding them for their unhealthy eating habits only to shove a door wedge of cake in their direction the moment someone looked sad. 

“Ten minutes,” Doyoung said once his laughing died down, giving Yangyang a pointed stare. 

“Yes, boss,” was the younger man’s reply, mostly exasperated but a little fond. 

“You’re gonna get me fired one day,” Yangyang hissed the moment Doyoung was out of earshot. Renjun shrugged innocently, far too invested in the glorious dessert sat before him. 

They munched on their cake in companionable silence, the only noise coming from the cafe outside with its hissing coffee machine and jangly jazz music. 

“Do you think he’ll just give up?” Renjun asked as he swallowed down the last bite of cake. The chocolate frosting stuck to his tongue like glue, suddenly tasting far more bitter than it did sweet. 

“Who, Doyoung?” Yangyang frowned. “Nah he’s, like, scarily strict about his sugar intake. I don’t think he’s letting us off the hook any time soon.”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “Not Doyoung - _Jeno_.”

“Oh.” 

Yangyang placed down his fork with a quiet clatter and clasped his hands on the table. He breathed a contemplative sigh, his brow furrowed. 

“I think that the likelihood of Jeno giving up on you is similar to that of me meeting a celebrity in a convenience store at midnight and convincing him to become my sugar daddy.”

“So, unlikely, but also not impossible,” Renjun concluded, draining the last of his latte. He elected to ignore the look on Yangyang’s face - the exasperated one this time. 

“Jeno better be the last man you ever date because I refuse to go through this again.”

Renjun reached across the table and scooped a lump out of Yangyang’s cake.

☼

Lunch with Yangyang had been somewhat useful, but at the same time, entirely useless. 

Renjun knew that two failed dates wasn't the be all and end all of his relationship with Jeno, but it did little to boost his confidence. From the very moment he realised his attraction to Jeno, there had always been something niggling at the back of his mind, telling Renjun that he’d never be good enough; that there would always be someone better, prettier, kinder. 

Until now, everything between them had happened due to a series of calculated events. Now that Renjun and Jeno had been left to their own devices, nothing seemed to be going quite as they planned. 

The only reason Renjun even met Jeno was because of Donghyuck’s meddling, then there had been Jaemin’s meddling which was an entire saga on its own, and now the universe seemed to be having her own hand in said meddling too. From the Halloween party, to Jeno and Jaemin’s fake relationship and breakup, to Italy - everything had always felt so far out of Renjun’s reach, and now that he had some level of control back, he didn't know what to do with it. Before now, everything had been so carefully orchestrated to ensure that Renjun would fall for Jeno, right down to the dinner in that little restaurant. Renjun wouldn't have even thought to go had Jaemin not texted him with urgent conviction. 

His time in Italy seemed so far away now, nothing but a distant memory Renjun found himself struggling to grasp. It was something like a fever dream, moments of clarity amidst delirious heat and dripping sweat. This felt like one of those sober moments, the ones where reality returns with shuddering force. 

Maybe Yangyang was right. Maybe Jeno wouldn't give up on him. But that was what scared Renjun. What if things really didn’t work out and neither of them were able to let go, unable to let their relationship run its natural course to the very end? What if they stayed together out of fear of the unknown, relying on each other for a comfort they could no longer provide? 

The early evening sun sizzled Renjun’s skin as he walked home, pulling droplets of sweat to the surface in an unattractive sheen. Something within him ached for the distant, briny scent of the sea and the sugary sweetness of melting gelato; yearned for the smooth bitterness of coffee in the morning sun, and the uncertain entanglement of someone’s fingers with his own; longing for heady summer nights, tangled in soft cotton sheets, drifting asleep to the muffled sound of crashing waves. 

By the time Renjun reached the door to his apartment he felt a little like crying, melancholy tears stinging his eyes as they threatened to spill onto his cheeks. He couldn't tell if it was nostalgia, sadness or the dreaded anticipation of what was to come.

What he had not anticipated in any capacity was to find Jeno hovering over a bubbling pot on the stove whilst Jaemin expertly chopped vegetables beside him. He was the first to notice Renjun’s frozen figure in the doorway. 

“Oh, you’re home!” Jaemin smiled, and Jeno turned away from the stove to face Renjun with a slightly shyer smile of his own. 

“Um,” Renjun croaked, his throat turning dry. 

“We’re making dinner,” Jeno said, gesturing to the array of food scattered across the kitchen counters. 

Jaemin snorted. “I think you mean that I’m making dinner and you’re burning the pasta.”

“You can’t burn pasta,” Jeno frowned, peering into the bubbling water. The look on Jaemin’s face suggested he disagreed with that statement. 

“Um,” Renjun croaked again, eyes flicking between Jaemin, Jeno, the food, and back to Jaemin again. “Shower,” he explained before taking off for the bathroom. 

The shower turned on with a groan and a squeal, lukewarm water spitting out in infrequent bursts. The water pressure in their building was terrible, allowing nothing more than a meagre trickle to drip onto Renjun’s sweat coated skin. He could faintly hear Jeno and Jaemin’s voices above the water slapping against the tiled floor, deep and muffled as they carried through the door. 

Scrubbing apple scented shampoo into his hair, Renjun let out a shuddering breath. He was overthinking again. Jaemin probably thought he had just had a bad day at the bookstore, and he could only imagine what Jeno was thinking, watching Renjun gape awkwardly in the doorway to his own kitchen. 

In all fairness, Renjun had not expected to find his best friend and Jeno cooking together, and he most certainly had not prepared himself for such a sight. For a moment Renjun had thought that he was hallucinating or suffering from heat stroke, that his brain had conjured up a picture of an idealistic future. Not once could he have ever imagined that this would be his present. 

He watched as the foamy suds of soap swirled sluggishly down the drain, like little clouds caught in a rainstorm, taking no notice of the water splashing into his eyes. Why Jeno was here, Renjun did not know. It seemed somewhat unlikely that Jeno had come over to take cooking lessons from Jaemin because, one, Jaemin wasn’t that good of a chef, and two, the internet existed, bringing with it an endless number of detailed recipes and cooking tutorials.

Then, if that was the case, had Jeno decided to give Jaemin a spontaneous visit? If he had, Renjun wasn’t necessarily jealous, but he also couldn't ignore the fact that Jeno had barely texted him since their date at the weekend. Was Jeno finally having doubts after almost a year of thinking he liked Renjun? Their first date hadn’t been a complete disaster, both of them admitting they had enjoyed themselves in some capacity, but had the second been such an inconceivable failure that Jeno had been forced to reconsider his attraction? Had he realised that all those months spent with Jaemin had meant something more than a ploy to gain Renjun’s attention? Would this evening’s dinner turn into another one of those movie nights from months gone by, with Jeno and Jaemin huddled together on the sofa, and Renjun watching from the sidelines?

Was their relationship destined to fail before it had truly begun?

Renjun’s mind was reeling when he stepped out of the shower, like someone had just reached inside his skull and rattled his brain with their bare hands. Everything seemed to be tinted with a hint of uncertainty, a blue coloured film across the lens of an otherwise bright world. 

Hair still a little damp, Renjun left the bathroom with a wariness in his step. That insecure feeling reared its ugly head, the one that told him he was an intruding, stepping on someone else’s toes. Renjun wished that for once his head and heart would stop their constant battle and finally work together. It was tiring. He wanted to be with Jeno so badly it hurt, but now he was beginning to wonder if the things he wanted weren’t always best for him.

“Dinner!”

Jaemin’s voice sounded like a foghorn startling the peacefulness of a misty ocean, although Renjun couldn’t say that anything about his thoughts was particularly serene. Forcing a smile on his face, Renjun padded through to the living room. 

The chipped surface of the coffee table was hidden beneath bowls of steaming pasta and a platter of cheesy garlic bread. Jaemin sat on one side, already stuffing forkfuls of food into his mouth, his eyes fixed on the television. Jeno, on the other hand, sat on the opposite side of the table, an expectant smile spreading across his face as soon as he caught sight of Renjun. It caught him off guard; the way Jeno’s eyes glinted, wide and bright as they reflected the characters on screen. 

It was only then that Renjun noticed Jeno patting the spot on the floor beside him. He wanted Renjun to sit there. 

Shaking himself out of whatever stupor he was in, Renjun made his way over to the table and dropped onto the floor, the bare skin of his arm brushing against the soft fabric of Jeno’s shirt. 

“Sorry if the pasta’s too soggy,” the younger man apologised, giving his plate of food a sceptical glance. “I think I overcooked it.”

“You think?” Jaemin grunted, although his eyes never left the tv screen. Renjun couldn't tell if his friend was trying to give him and Jeno a little privacy, or if he really was that invested in this evening’s programming. 

Renjun could feel Jeno watching him as he gingerly lifted the pasta to his mouth, his cheeks already turning a treacherous shade of pink. Jaemin was right - the pasta was definitely overcooked, turning to a textureless mush in Renjun’s mouth. The sauce tasted good though.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?”

“It’s not _terrible_ ,” Renjun said. “It’s just on the verge of being edible.”

Unexpectedly, Jeno looked relieved.

“Thank you,” he sighed, sitting his fork on the table. 

Renjun frowned. “What for?”

“For not lying to me.”

“It’s just pasta.” It wasn’t. 

“I know.” Renjun did too. 

☼

“You make a nauseatingly cute couple, I hope you know that,” Jaemin muttered, scrubbing furiously at a burnt piece of tomato that clung to the frying pan with everything it had. 

They had finished dinner in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the scraping of cutlery against plates, Jaemin’s television commentary, and Jeno offering Renjun _another_ slice of garlic bread.

“If you ever say that in front of Jeno I will have your head,” Renjun hissed, smacking Jaemin with a dish towel, who retaliated by flicking grimy dishwater in Renjun’s eyes. 

“But it’s alright if I say it to you?”

Luckily for Renjun, he didn't have to conjure up his worst glare and Jaemin didn't have a chance to make another teasing remark because Jeno appeared, having collected the last of the dinner dishes. 

“Are you sure I can’t help with anything else?” he asked, setting the plates onto the counter with a muted clatter. 

“After the state of that pasta, I don’t think I’ll ask you to help me with anything ever again,” Jaemin announced, giving the pan a purposeful scrub that set Renjun’s teeth on edge. 

Unsurprisingly, Jeno wasn't at all put out by his permanent ban from the kitchen. 

“Noted,” he accepted gracefully, looking a little too pleased with himself. 

It was a strangely domestic scene, Renjun thought. Not in a romantic sense, with soapy water fights and soft kisses, but it was like something had clicked. Whatever doubts Renjun had once had about the sincerity of Jeno’s feelings were washed away as he watched the younger man bicker playfully with Jaemin. 

Jeno’s eyes confirmed everything. He didn't look at Jaemin the same way he looked at Renjun. With Jaemin, it was all sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, but with Renjun it was almost the opposite. Every time they met eyes, Renjun felt something jolt within him, like an electric spark, currents running as Jeno’s smooth voice and sweet words trickled down his spine. Jeno was looking at him like that now, and if Renjun didn’t have such good impulse control, his mouth would be on Jeno’s in an instant. 

Thankfully, Jaemin had the good grace of reminding them he was still there. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll just finish washing an Ikea’s worth of plates all by myself,” he interjected haughtily with an only slightly bitter grin to soften the blow. 

A hand appeared just as Renjun begrudgingly reached for the nearest clean glass, curling around the wrist of his free hand. 

“Great, thanks Jaemin,” Jeno’s voice rumbled in Renjun’s ear, the warmth from his hand singeing the skin beneath it. 

With that, Renjun found himself being dragged from the kitchen and back into the living room, leaving an undoubtedly irritated Jaemin behind. He’d have to deal with the aftermath of this later, but Jeno was currently far higher up on Renjun’s priority list. 

“So, I know that none of our dates have really gone to plan so far,” Jeno began once they were back in front of the television, standing in the middle of the room despite the perfectly good sofa.

Renjun could only agree. That very fact had been the trigger of his silent (and perhaps retrospectively irrational) breakdown in the shower. Renjun’s agreement must’ve been clear on his face because Jeno continued, undeterred. 

“Well, I did some thinking, and I may have a solution.”

The rise of Renjun’s eyebrow was something like a silent urge. He had learned that Jeno could be unpredictable when he wanted to be, and this was no exception. It would hardly surprise him if Jeno suddenly proposed couple’s therapy “just to be on the safe side”.

Instead, Jeno shoved a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out what looked to be two tickets of some description. 

“I’m not sure if you already know this guy, but his art looks pretty cool,” he explained, handing the slips of pink cardboard to a curious Renjun. “I think it’s something you’d be into.”

The gasp that slipped from Renjun’s lips upon reading the ticket would probably come back to haunt him later, bringing the ghost of a mortified blush along with it. 

“How did you get these? I’ve been on the waitlist for months!”

“Oh, so you do know this guy!” 

Renjun’s jaw dropped.

“This guy? _This guy?”_ Renjun gaped. _“_ Jeno, Leon is probably my favourite artist from this century. How the fuck did you get _two tickets_ for his exhibition?”

And then, Jeno had the audacity to shrug. 

“I saw it on Twitter. Some girl said her friend got her the tickets but she wouldn’t be able to make it, so she sold them to me.”

“Did you have to sacrifice a goat in the process? Trade your organs on the black market?” Renjun was absolutely losing his mind. “Do you know how much these tickets are worth?”

“They were only forty thousand won,” Jeno frowned, sounding like he already thought that was expensive. In reality, forty thousand won for a ticket to a Leon exhibition was criminally cheap. Literally. Jeno may as well have stolen them.

“Each?” Renjun dared to ask, his voice a hollow husk. The bewildered pout on Jeno’s face was enough of an answer, but he tortured Renjun with one anyway.

“Together,” Jeno corrected, shooting a painful arrow directly through Renjun’s heart.

“I think I’m going to collapse,” he wheezed helplessly. “Or pass away.”

“Do you not want to go?” Jeno asked, visibly concerned. “I mean, I completely understand if-”

“Were you even listening to me?” Renjun huffed, aware that he sounded somewhat petulant. If Jeno still wanted him after this, he’d better start planning the wedding. “Of course I want to go!”

“You just seem a bit… angry?”

Only then did Renjun realise that Jeno wasn’t used to this side of him. He had seen the angry side, the heartbroken, and even the hopeful, but not once had Renjun revealed to Jeno the dramatic bitch that lived within, inhabiting the darkest corners of his psyche until something beckoned it out.

“I’m not angry,” Renjun sighed, making a conscious effort to soften his voice. “I think I’m just in shock.”

Any sullenness in Jeno’s expression quickly transformed into worry, and Renjun was fairly certain he would never be able to feel anything like this for someone else ever again.

“Do you want me to get you something?”Jeno offered kindly, far kinder than Renjun deserved. “Water? Green tea?”

A breaking point. That's what this was. A wave crashing against a seawall, splintering into broken droplets. A mirror shattering as it drops to the floor, minuscule shards shimmering as they fly through the air. A teardrop set free, emotions high and tension thick.

“I don’t want a drink.”

“Oh.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

Everything was still. A frozen clock. A broken watch. Water turning to ice. Silence. If Jeno was surprised he didn’t show it, but he paused, like he was a character on screen and Renjun had a hold of the remote. 

Wondering if he had read the signs wrong, Renjun silently began to panic. Was he rushing this? Had he been too forward? Maybe Jeno had a rule to never kiss before the third date, and Renjun was unknowingly disregarding it completely.

And then: “Okay.”

With a confident tug, Jeno pulled Renjun towards him and pressed their mouths together. It wasn’t the desperate kiss either of them had expected it to be; just the gentle movement of lips, like the ebbing flow of the sea against a shoreline. One of Jeno’s hands sat on the curve of Renjun’s waist, whilst the other cupped the side of his jaw, a thumb tenderly stroking warm skin. The gesture sent a shiver down Renjun’s spine, leaving every nerve tingling in its wake. His own hands found themselves wrapped around Jeno’s neck, his fingers carefully brushing the short hair at the nape. It was just as soft as Renjun had imagined. He never wanted to let go.

It was the sweetest of kisses, the flutter of wings against a flower petal, and Renjun was melting. Each press of Jeno’s lips against his own could be felt in the very core of Renjun’s soul, every layer of his being evaporating under the heat of Jeno’s touch. He had been longing for this; the comforting warmth of Jeno’s body against his; the delicate pressure of Jeno’s chapped lips against his; the uncontrollable sense of relief from the knowledge that Jeno wanted to kiss him just as badly as Renjun wanted to be kissed.

Their kiss barely lasted a minute, but to Renjun it felt like an entire lifetime had passed, each second leaving behind a new memory he never wanted to forget.

“Did that help with the shock?” Jeno whispered as he pulled away, eyes glowing golden as they navigated Renjun’s face.

“It’s too early to tell,” Renjun breathed, fingers tracing shapes against the back of Jeno’s neck.

“I should probably do it again, then, just to be safe,” Jeno said lowly, beginning to lean in again. 

Renjun had to suppress a shiver. “Probably,” he nodded, his gaze trained on Jeno’s mouth.

A pot clanged somewhere in the kitchen. Renjun’s head whipped around to find Jaemin standing in the doorway, his face scrunched up in repulsion.

“Jun, when I said you and Jeno were a nauseatingly cute couple, I was not a challenging you to prove me right.”

Renjun disentangled his hands from Jeno’s neck, reflexively attempting to distance himself, but Jeno didn't let him. If anything, Jeno held him tighter, moved Renjun a little closer.

“You think we’re a cute couple?” he asked, sounding mischievous yet proud. Renjun stared up at him in wonder. Jeno didn't seem to be even slightly annoyed that their kiss had been interrupted. 

Jaemin snickered from across the room, shooting Renjun a teasing smirk. 

Yeah, he was not getting away with it this time.

“That’s it,” Renjun announced, pulling himself free from Jeno’s hold with a threatening glare in Jaemin’s direction. “Time to die.”

☼

“Please don’t tell me I have to be the third wheel again. Once was more than enough.”

Renjun’s hair was a staticky mess atop his head upon removing it from the depths of the closet. 

“Stop complaining, you did that to yourself,” he huffed, turning to face Jaemin with an irritated flush colouring his ears. “I didn’t call you in here to listen to your whinging - I need help.”

The floor of Renjun’s room was hidden somewhere beneath the carpet of jeans, shirts, and a velvet blazer he vaguely remembered buying during one of his late-night online shopping sprees. Jeno was due to arrive in the next thirty minutes, and Renjun wasn't any closer to finding an outfit for the evening. At first, Jaemin had seemed like the obvious solution, but all he’d done so far was drape himself across the bed and scroll through his phone, and now Renjun was considering calling the whole thing off. 

The days running up to the date left Renjun thrumming with the quiet buzz of his excitement. The dark cloud that had hovered over him the day he met Yangyang for lunch cleared the moment Jeno kissed him, and now it was all Renjun could think about. If Jaemin hadn't interrupted, Renjun was pretty sure he would have spent the rest of the night with his lips attached to Jeno’s. Asking Jeno to kiss him had been a rash, impulsive decision made in the heat of the moment, but Renjun didn’t have the willpower to regret it.

The nerves didn’t kick in until the morning of the exhibition, creeping up on Renjun like a sneaky little creature with spindly legs and sharp pincers. If this one didn’t go to plan, then what? Would they have to keep trying until one day, one of their dates actually worked out? Or would they call it quits and have to spend the rest of their lives pretending none of this had ever happened for the sake of their friends? 

It also didn’t help that Renjun had forgotten to wash his favourite shirt after Jaemin managed to spill half a bowl of cereal on it a few days prior, leaving him to frantically ransack his room in search for something else to wear. 

The art gallery looked like a pretty swanky place - not a venue often frequented by students with fast food addictions and an unhealthy dependency on caffeine. Afterwards, Jeno had promised dinner at a well-known Japanese restaurant, the dress code of which Renjun was completely unfamiliar with. 

He let out a sound - something between a strangled whine and a desperate wail - causing Jaemin to abandon his phone for the first time since he’d dropped onto Renjun’s bed.

“Give me a minute,” he groaned, sliding off the mattress and disappearing from the room, leaving Renjun shirtless and panicked in the middle of a self-inflicted bombsite. 

Jaemin returned not thirty seconds later with a bundle of clothes cradled in his arms. 

“Here,” he said, dropping them onto the unmade bed in a muddled mess. “If Jeno doesn’t jump you on the spot then I’m a terrible friend.”

☼

“You look really nice.”

Renjun looked down at his outfit. It _was_ nice, he supposed. The material of Jaemin’s shirt was smooth and silky, an off-white colour that shone like a freshwater pearl under the lights of the gallery. The trousers were Renjun’s own, a dark fabric that clung to his legs like a second skin; and, the pièce de résistance, a thin silver chain hung around his neck, dripping into the crevices of his collarbones. Paired with the faint smudges of eyeliner and the thin layer of shiny lip gloss Jaemin had forced onto his face, Renjun felt like he looked good. 

Jaemin, his best friend, had told him that he looked like an angel (which could have had something to do with the fact he had played a major role in the final result - Renjun chose to ignore that). Jeno, his _date_ , could afford to do better than “nice”.

“Just nice?” Renjun asked, glancing coyly at Jeno. Maybe he was laying it on thick, but after the strangely platonic atmosphere of their last failed date, Renjun wanted romance. If that meant he had to flirt a little harder, bat his eyelashes and bite his lower lip, then that’s what he would do. 

Jeno blinked at him, his face taking on a muted shade of pink. He didn't look embarrassed, exactly, but he certainly looked called out - like Renjun had caught him lying.

“I was going to say you looked pretty,” he eventually confessed, avoiding Renjun’s eyes as he stared resolutely at the painting in front of them. “But I kind of panicked.”

Jeno was stumbling already, caught off guard. Renjun felt rather pleased.

“Pretty? I don’t think anyone’s called me that before.” A lie. Renjun had been called pretty plenty of times in the past. The only difference between then and now was his sweating palms and rosy cheeks beneath his makeup. 

Renjun turned his own gaze to the painting. It was one of Leon’s less famous ones but one of his favourites, a splatter of blues and purples across a white canvas. 

“They should.”

Jeno’s voice was so quiet, almost a whisper, that Renjun wouldn't have noticed had he not been listening for it. 

“They?” he echoed, shuffling a little closer to Jeno. Renjun could smell his cologne from this close, an invisible cloud of something faintly citrusy. 

“Like, other people,” Jeno elaborated, followed by the forced clearing of his throat. 

“You want other people to call me pretty?” Renjun teased, and he could tell that Jeno was beginning to suspect him. 

“I mean, they can if they want,” Jeno said, the tension leaking from his shoulders. He stuck a hand in his pocket, his knuckles barely grazing Renjun’s arm as he did. 

Finding the will to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing Jeno’s hand was proving to be difficult, especially when he looked so good. Jeno had taken a similar approach to his own outfit, donning a black shirt and a pair of matching trousers. A silver watch gleamed on his thin wrist, poking out the top of his pocket. 

Oh, how Renjun wished to kiss him again. Time to amp up the flirting.

“I don’t really care either way,” Renjun said, inching a little closer. 

Jeno finally looked at him, raising a quizzical brow. “Why not?”

Renjun met his eyes, a coquettish smirk curling his glossy mouth.

“You would be the only one that mattered.”

After dropping that bomb, Renjun moved onto the next painting, leaving a stunned Jeno behind to gape open mouthed at his back. 

☼

It had been so long since Renjun last had the opportunity to spend some time surrounded by such incredible art.

The little gallery in Italy had been impressive considering the size of the place, but the experience was cut short by the guilt of spending time with his best friend’s ex. Now that he knew that to be untrue, Renjun found that roaming an art gallery with Jeno by his side was actually quite fun.

Jeno didn’t know all that much about art (previously made obvious with the method by which he had procured the tickets for this event) but he was more than willing to learn. Every time Renjun pointed out even the littlest of details, Jeno’s eyes would widen and he'd make this small noise of interest that endeared Renjun to no end. 

Even with Jeno beside him, offering the perfect distraction just by existing, Renjun couldn't help but be amazed by each and every one of Leon’s artworks. 

As an artist, Leon was well known for his near anonymity, using a pseudonym and very rarely making any public appearances. Despite being a near phantom in the art world, he had managed to amass success many could only dream of. Leon’s art was unusual in that it very rarely followed a theme or pattern. In fact, if Renjun wasn’t so invested in Leon’s art, he would have probably thought that all of the pieces in the exhibition were submitted by several different artists. From his meticulous tattoo-like drawings, to the paint-splattered canvases that covered entire walls, Leon’s art was beautiful and unique in ways Renjun hoped would one day be reflected in his own. 

“This guy is _really good_ ,” Jeno gaped as they stopped to inspect the largest painting in the gallery. It sprawled across the length and breadth of a wall, more like a mural than just a painting. Teal and violet, black and grey, white and orange - all of the colours gathered together in aggressive slashes and strokes that made Renjun’s head spin. 

“Now do you see why I was so surprised about the tickets?” he asked.

“No,” Jeno sighed, “but I’ll probably understand this all eventually.”

Renjun’s heart tightened. _Eventually._ That meant Jeno could see himself doing this kind of thing again, right? 

There wasn’t much left to see after that, just a few smaller drawings encased in glass boxes that made Renjun’s fingers itch to sketch something. He hadn’t drawn much lately, too busy dealing with all the things life had been throwing at him, but seeing Leon’s artwork had lit a spark of inspiration inside him, a burning flame that spread throughout his entire body. Sad as he was to see Leon go, Renjun was grateful he’d had the chance to visit the exhibition. Jeno deserved a kiss for that. Maybe two. 

The restaurant wasn’t too far from the art gallery, just a ten minute walk in the cool evening air down busy streets. They passed by the bar from Jaemin’s birthday drinks and Renjun felt something lie in the pit of his stomach, the root of a drunken memory curling down from his brain and choosing to grow there. Something about cake and a taxi, he thought. Renjun distantly remembered falling into the back seat of a car along with Jaemin, both of them mumbling nonsensical words and phrases that meant little to anyone but themselves.

It didn’t feel like he’d hit the nail on the head with that memory. Rather, it was a lot more like Renjun had aimed for the nail and ended up only catching the edge, bending it at the shank instead. He was missing something, some part of that memory, like he’d cropped the picture wrong and missed out half of someone’s head. 

Renjun didn’t let his mind stew in the thought for too long because then Jeno was talking, already reminiscing about all of the colours he had seen in Leon’s paintings. 

“...and the drawings of the cats! Those were so cool,” Jeno gushed excitedly, the words coming out in a breathless ramble as they neared the restaurant. 

God, he was so fucking cute. 

“Apparently they’re portraits of his pets,” Renjun added, and Jeno made that little noise again, his mouth parting in surprise. 

“I wish I had a cat,” he sighed mournfully

“Me too,” Renjun agreed, picturing how much his quality of life would improve with the presence of a tiny ball of fur. “Or a puppy.”

“You should come and visit me at work some time,” Jeno suggested. “It’s not an animal shelter, but there’re always plenty of cats and puppies running about.”

Jeno had to stop doing this. Renjun was so close to asking him to be his boyfriend, in the same way he’d asked for that kiss. If the back of Jeno’s hand brushed against his one more time, Renjun would be tempted to do just that.

“I wonder how Mrs Kwon would feel if someone did that for Goyangi,” Jeno commented thoughtfully. “You know, paint her a little portrait of him.”

It forced a laugh out of Renjun. “I don’t think Mrs Kwon’s opinion would matter. That cat would grow opposable thumbs and rip it up in an instant.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. She doesn’t own Goyangi - Goyangi owns her.”

_Sometimes it feels like you own me._

☼

_staying at hyuck’s tonight!! don’t wait up for me ~ (^_ <) _

Renjun swallowed dryly as he re-read the text. If Jaemin was sleeping over at Donghyuck’s place, then that meant…

Jeno lived alone. That was a fact, one that Renjun already knew. They could go there whenever they wanted to, and no one would disturb them.

But this… 

This entire night seemed so purposeful. From the outfits to the flirting, and now the text - it all _meant_ something. The finale of a tv show, the closing night of a play, a musician’s swan song. Everything had been building up to this evening, through carefully constructed touches and perfectly timed glances. Renjun’s skin itched with anticipation and nerves as he skimmed the text once more.

“Is everything okay?” 

Jeno reappeared in front of him, having returned from the restroom. He lowered himself into his chair, his brow drawn into an inquisitive frown. Renjun realised he had been glaring down at the screen of his phone, chewing the inside of his cheek as he tried to figure out if he felt grateful or betrayed by Jaemin’s message. It had arrived some time in between the appetisers and the main course, vibrating in Renjun’s pocket with a force he had ignored until now.

“Yeah, it’s just Jaemin,” he explained, stuffing his phone away before he could think any more about what the text meant. After all, out of sight, out of mind. “He’s staying at Hyuck’s tonight.”

“Where’s he gonna sleep? On the floor?”

“I take it you also got the text about their new mega bed,” Renjun scoffed, the image Donghyuck had sent leaving him both impressed and disturbed. Apparently, now that they were a couple, Mark’s bedroom was “taking up space”, and the only solution was to join his bed to Donghyuck’s and turn the spare room into a gaming den. Who needed an entire room just for games? And games played on a computer at that?

“Unfortunately.”

The last grains of sticky rice clung to the sides of the bowl with gravity defying force until Renjun knocked them off with his spoon. Kind of like how he was clinging to the remaining strands of his sanity, stopping himself from bringing up Jaemin’s absence and asking Jeno to come home with him. One tiny push and Renjun would slip. 

Jeno chose to offer a little nudge. 

“So... Jaemin’s away tonight?”

It was a mask of a question, the kind of question that disguised the real one Jeno wasn’t brave enough to ask. Renjun thought that it was a cheap, shitty mask because he could see right through it.

“Looks like it,” he answered innocently, playing along just to see where Jeno was taking this. How far he was willing to go before he just said what he really meant. 

Jeno only nodded before dropping his gaze to his bowl. Renjun waited expectantly, but he didn't say anything more. 

“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked, materialising by their table like some sort of omnipotent being, able to sense when and where she was needed most. 

“We’re okay, thanks,” Renjun answered, not giving Jeno a chance to even consider the waitress’ question. If they didn’t get out of this restaurant soon, Renjun would lose his nerve and the date would end just like all of the others - early and kissless. 

“Would you like to pay, then?” 

“I’ll get it,” Jeno blurted, shoving his card at the waitress in a hurry. 

“One moment, please,” she said, turning on her heel to get the card reader. 

“The drinks are kind of expensive here,” Renjun explained when Jeno turned to him with a questioning look on his face. The sharp planes of his cheekbones cast shadows along his jaw in the low lighting, carved like a marble sculpture. “And I already have drinks at home.”

It was an innocent suggestion, one that could easily be brushed off as an invitation for a post-dinner coffee. But, it could also be easily misconstrued. He knew he was doing it - disguising one question in the costume of another. Renjun wanted Jeno to see straight through it, to recognise the truth that lay in between the words, punctuating the tiny slithers of space with the desire for kisses and touches and _more_. 

Dark eyes met Renjun’s, and that’s when he knew. Jeno wanted this too. 

☼

The taxi ride back to Renjun’s apartment was stifling. 

With the August heat still lingering in the air and the right side of Jeno’s body pressed to the left of his, Renjun could feel beads of sweat forming across his hairline, threatening to flow down his face like tears. The driver either didn’t have working sweat glands or he enjoyed driving around in a mobile sauna because the windows refused to budge open, the cool glass slowly clouding with condensation as they traversed traffic-packed streets. 

No journey had ever felt as long, and Renjun was beginning to think that it would never end. The taxi could comfortably seat four passengers - one beside the driver and another three in the back - but Jeno had chosen the middle seat instead, right beside Renjun. The warmth emanating from his skin crept through the material of their clothes until it seared Renjun’s own. 

Tension filled the air, thick and obvious as smoke from a fire. It curled around Renjun’s lungs, clamping down until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Jeno’s hand, laying palm up in his lap. Renjun didn’t even have to ask to know it was an invitation. Jeno’s skin was a little clammy, a little sticky with sweat, but Renjun didn’t mind. 

The memory of the last time they’d held hands flashed in Renjun’s mind, the click of a camera shutter. He saw it in passing images, like a child flicking through the pages of a picture book. Both of them dressed in those white robes; golden light framing Jeno’s face; a kind smile; fingers intertwining like growing vines. At the time, Renjun had felt so guilty. He had wanted to let it happen so badly that he’d banished all thoughts of Jaemin from his mind, something he regretted almost immediately. 

It was different now. Renjun was allowed to hold Jeno’s hand, and he was allowed to _enjoy_ it. He could relish in the feeling of their skin touching without that tiny, infectious molecule of guilt infiltrating his system. He could think about kissing Jeno without worrying about Jaemin being able to read his mind. He could imagine hands dipping lower, wandering and needy, without taking a guilt-induced cold shower afterwards.

They didn't talk as the taxi wound along busy roads. They didn’t have to. Their body language said enough. Renjun was sure he’d seen the driver glance at them through his rearview mirror, silent but judgemental, but that hadn’t deterred Jeno from slinking closer when the car hit a pothole. 

The sun was long gone when they pulled up in front of Renjun’s building, the last strokes of orange dulling to purple as it dropped below the skyline. A crisp note was handed over and then the taxi sped away, the driver leaving them with nothing but a muttered thanks and a suspicious onceover. 

The streetlight above them flickered on, shading everything a stark white. Renjun winced and got to punching the passcode into the main door. Jeno hovered behind him, all citrusy and warm like mulled wine on a winter’s evening. On Renjun’s second try, the door buzzed open, the sound echoing like a siren’s cry in the tense silence of a stormy ocean.

“Is the elevator still broken?” Jeno asked, eyeing the notice on the doors with barely concealed contempt. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure the landlady’s a health fanatic or something,” Renjun explained as they started to climb the stairs. “We’ve all sent in complaints but she refuses to do anything about it.”

“What about Mrs Kwon? Is she not kind of ancient?”

“She _is_ the landlady.”

The journey to Renjun’s home continued - unnecessarily long and far sweatier than it had to be. Renjun’s phone buzzed again, signalling another incoming text, but he ignored it in favour of keying in the code to his apartment. If Jaemin had anything important to say he would’ve said it by now. 

Once they were both safely inside, Renjun and Jeno kicked off their shoes, shiny leather landing somewhere amidst the mess of trainers and boots with a deafening clatter. 

“Beer or wine?” 

Jeno seemed caught off guard by the offer, like he hadn’t been expecting it, but he managed to take it in stride. 

“Beer, please.”

Renjun scuttled nervously to the kitchen where he shoved his face into the fridge in the hopes the cool air would calm the redness colouring his cheeks. He and Jeno were alone. He and Jeno were alone and, at least on Renjun’s part, extremely horny. 

The last time he’d had sex was months ago with a girl he met at a club. Overall, it was a wholly unsatisfying experience and had left Renjun alone with his right hand for months after. He hated how badly he hoped Jeno would be different. Better. 

The condensation from the beer and wine bottles clung to the glass in droplets, smudged by Renjun’s fingers as he grabbed them out of the fridge. He poured a splash of red wine into a glass and pulled the lid off the beer with trembling hands before reentering the living room, his heart shuddering in his chest with a cocktail of uncertainty and excitement. 

Jeno hadn’t sat down yet, still standing where Renjun had left him, inspecting the posters plastered to the wall with mild interest. 

“Does Jaemin mind all of this?” he asked, gesturing to the glossy image of Heath Ledger’s face.

“Yes,” Renjun laughed, taking a distracted sip of his wine, “but I let him have the bigger room so he’s not allowed to complain.”

“Wow, you’re an expert in the field of persuasion,” Jeno kidded, his light and amused tone contrasting with the heated glances he and Renjun were exchanging.

“Only when I have to be,” Renjun countered, matching Jeno’s teasing grin with one of his own.

“So most of the time?”

“I suppose. It’s the only way I ever get what I want.”

A pause. Renjun took another nervous sip of his wine, flushing under Jeno’s watchful gaze.

“And what is it that you want now?” he asked, following the movement of Renjun’s tongue wetting his lips. 

Blood rushed in Renjun’s ears, his face was hot to the touch, and he had never wanted to kiss someone as badly as he wanted to kiss Jeno; Jeno, with loose strands of hair falling into his eyes that Renjun wanted to brush back with his fingers; Jeno, with a hint of a smile curling at his lips that Renjun wanted to feel against his own; Jeno, with his strong arms and chest that Renjun wanted to run his hands over; Jeno, who was looking at Renjun with an intensity that ran a shiver down his spine, but also sent a sudden rush of confidence through his veins. 

“I want to kiss you,” Renjun stated, bold and shameless. 

He watched with thrumming veins and a pounding heart as Jeno’s eyes briefly widened, before darkening with some heated version of resolution. 

“Kiss me, then,” he murmured, and that was the last fucking straw. 

Renjun wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, didn’t care who grabbed who, wasn’t at all concerned with the technicalities. Nothing else seemed to matter because he was kissing Jeno, and Jeno was kissing him back. 

There was nothing soft about their kiss, nothing gentle. Tender touches were replaced with desperate hands, grappling to find somewhere to grip onto. Jeno’s mouth felt like a scorching heat against Renjun’s, burning his lips until he could no longer feel them. His hands, once curled around the back of Renjun’s neck, drifted downwards until Jeno had a hold on Renjun’s waist, tight and unyielding. 

Renjun never wanted him to let go. If anything, Renjun wanted Jeno to be closer. He wanted to slip his hands underneath Jeno’s shirt until his palms brushed against the firm planes of his stomach. He wanted to slide his lips from Jeno’s mouth to nip at his neck until purple bruises bloomed like bouquets of violets. He wanted to press Jeno up against the nearest wall until there wasn’t a single hairsbreadth of space between them, chest to chest and mouth to mouth. Renjun had never wanted like this. He had never _needed_ like this. 

Jeno’s mouth tasted a little bitter, a mixture of beer and unscented lip balm that was a little unpleasant, but Renjun couldn't find it in himself to care. His own lips were probably still stained red from the wine, a little sour from the flavour of his lip gloss. Their teeth clashed and their tongues slid sloppily, yet it was the best kiss Renjun had ever had. 

They broke apart for a moment, lips swollen and chins stinging, rubbed raw from the stubble prickling their skin. 

Renjun’s mouth parted as his eyes landed on Jeno. The living room was dark, but a sliver of golden light slipped through a gap in the curtains, reflecting in the dark pools of Jeno’s eyes. 

“What are you doing to me?” Jeno whispered into the space between them, a curse and a prayer all at once. 

“Presumably the same thing you’re doing to me,” Renjun gasped, and then he kissed Jeno again. Hard. Teeth and spit and tongue. It was disastrous, the closest to perfection Renjun had ever experienced. He clutched Jeno’s shoulders tightly before lightly pushing him backwards towards his room, a gentle gesture amidst a million burning touches. 

“Are you sure?” Jeno asked, the question muffled against Renjun’s lips. 

Renjun nodded and pushed him again. Their feet stumbled, tripping over one another as they travelled clumsily towards Renjun’s bedroom, barely missing one of Jaemin’s potted plants on the way. It was a small mercy that Renjun had remembered to clear his floor before meeting Jeno, stuffing the creased pile of clothes back into his closet to be sorted at a later date. 

They dropped onto Renjun’s bed in a tangle of limbs and wet kisses. Hands gripped Renjun’s hips as his legs wound around Jeno’s waist, unforgiving as they pressed divots into the skin lying beneath the silky fabric of his shirt. Renjun’s slacks were tight, but they had never felt tighter than they did now. Every blood vessel pulsed with a desire Renjun had never experienced before. He’d had sex before, but not even that could match the thrill of feeling Jeno’s hands reaching wherever they could as they kissed on Renjun’s sunflower yellow duvet. If he had known this would happen, Renjun would’ve swapped the cover out for something a little sexier (if such bedding existed). Hindsight was always twenty-twenty, but apparently Jeno had no qualms with imperfect vision or brightly coloured sheets. With every swipe of Renjun’s tongue, he let out breathy noises that went straight to Renjun’s dick, quiet moans exchanged for deep kisses. It was good, so good, but Renjun wanted more. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Renjun lowered his hips until the fabric of his trousers met Jeno’s. 

“Fuck,” Jeno exhaled into Renjun’s mouth, closely followed by a gravelly groan that rumbled in the back of his throat. The sound shook Renjun to his core, the surface of his skin tingling and breaking out into a screaming crowd of goosebumps. 

Growing desperate as the heat between them turned to flames, Renjun untucked Jeno’s shirt from the waistband of his trousers and pushed his hands underneath until his palms grazed smooth skin. Renjun felt like he was overflowing with secrets, he had so many of them. The long existing desire to run his hands over every dip and dent of Jeno’s torso was one of them, and one he had never allowed himself to entertain for too long before now. 

Jeno’s mouth pulled away from his, and for a split second Renjun worried that he wanted to stop, that a line had been crossed. 

“Touch me.” 

Renjun’s body didn’t wait for his brain to catch up, his hands scrabbling to rip Jeno’s shirt from his torso. With shaking hands, he pulled every button loose until he was faced with miles and miles of pale, smooth skin. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he muttered under his breath, but Jeno heard him, his gaze a burning laser as it bore into Renjun’s face. 

“Me too,” Jeno said, and he breathed like he was about to say something else but Renjun quickly cut him off, dropping kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Head spinning, Renjun continued the trail of kisses until his mouth reached the slight curve of Jeno’s chest. 

“You can touch too,” he murmured, firm muscle beneath his lips. The white satin of Jaemin’s shirt was a cool relief in the heat of the moment, but Renjun wanted it off. He wanted to feel the burn of Jeno’s skin on his, a lit match singeing his fingertips. 

In an instant, Renjun’s shirt was gone, and each bump of Jeno’s body melded against his own like molten lava. 

Renjun felt drunk on it all, every sensation making his head spin and his inhibitions scarce. He didn't care if his kisses were sloppy or if he was grinding desperately against the front of Jeno’s slacks. He didn't care if he whined out loud when Jeno began to nip along the line of his jaw. It wasn't just satisfying. It was _addictive_. Renjun couldn’t get enough of it; of Jeno’s mouth slipping against his; of Jeno’s tongue swirling with his; of Jeno’s hand sliding across his stomach until it brushed his crotch.

“Jun, you need to tell me what you want,” Jeno groaned, his fingers running along the strip of skin lying just above Renjun’s waistband. “You need to say it.”

And so, Renjun dropped his head into the crook of Jeno’s neck and told him everything he wanted, the words pouring into Jeno’s ears smooth and sweet like honey. 

Another groan. A zipper buzzing. A relieved sigh. The rustle of clothes being removed. A hushed moan. 

Every one of Renjun’s senses felt heightened and muted all at once. He felt surrounded by the scent of Jeno’s cologne, by the pleasure of having Jeno’s body beneath his own. As Jeno flipped them over with a strength Renjun could never have expected, his ears filled with static and his vision blurred, like he’d been thrown into a pool of gurgling water. The click of the lube bottle opening was nothing but a distant snap echoing in his head. The sensation of Jeno’s fingers, cool and slick, sent a spike of pleasure through Renjun’s nerves right through to the marrow of his bones, but it was barely a blip on his radar. 

All Renjun could focus on was the darkness of Jeno’s eyes. He’d never seen Jeno look at anyone like that before, all serious and murky and _lustful_ , and they bored into Renjun’s with an intensity he would never be able to forget. He writhed and moaned as Jeno stretched him open, long fingers grazing him with a tenderness that left Renjun shaking and on the verge of begging for more. 

With each gentle rock of Jeno’s hips came an even gentler series of touches, and Renjun felt himself falling apart, only to find the press of soft lips against his own bringing him back together again. 

Sex wasn’t usually like this for him. It was awkward and clunky or rough and unforgiving, with very little space for comfort in between. 

Sex wasn’t usually like this for him, but with Jeno it was different. It was a culmination of everything Renjun had been feeling for months, little moments and memories gathered together in a bruise, a bite, a kiss. Renjun wanted to scratch red lines down Jeno’s back and bite bruises into the flesh of his thighs just as much as he wanted to whisper sweetly into Jeno’s ear and trail tender kisses across his jaw. Jeno was so much more sensitive than Renjun could’ve imagined, shivering and trembling under Renjun’s hands even though he was the one on top. 

Jeno’s touches were like the inflection of a sentence, trailing up, up, up only to be punctuated with a question mark. Was that okay? Did Renjun like it when he did this? Could he go a little faster? A little harder?

The room felt like it was on fire, embers catching alight and sparking into swirling flames. Sweat dripped down Renjun’s face, his skin sticky where it met Jeno’s. 

“I can’t believe I get to see you like this,” Jeno said, staring down at Renjun with what only could be described as pure adoration. It made his heart clench and pushed three words dangerously close to the top of his tongue. “You’re so gorgeous, Jun. So beautiful.”

Renjun could cry. It was simultaneously overwhelming and not enough, the pleasure curling in his gut before loosening again when Jeno’s movements slowed to a tease. 

He clutched Jeno’s hands, squeezing them tight when Jeno moved just right. 

“Don’t stop,” Renjun whispered. “Please. Don’t stop.”

And Jeno didn’t. Not until they were both exhausted, limbs aching and bodies sated. He peppered kisses along Renjun’s forehead and cheekbones, like freckles scattered across his face after hours spent in the summer sun. If Renjun shut his eyes and imagined hard enough, he could hear the waves of the ocean, the distant cry of gulls, the upbeat music of street performers. If Renjun imagined hard enough, he could pretend that he and Jeno were back in Italy on the vacation they were supposed to have had, and for once, his imagination was more than enough.

☼

A few narrow beams of sunlight had managed to trickle through the cracks in the curtains when Renjun awoke, spilling across the foot of his bed and onto the floor. He squinted his tired eyes at the little pink alarm clock sitting atop his chest of drawers - eight thirty, it read. 

A quiet sigh sounded from behind him followed by the rustling of sheets, reminding Renjun that he wasn't alone. He twisted around slightly to see Jeno’s sleeping face, his eyes shut and mouth open. Cute. Honestly, Renjun was amazed that he hadn’t woken up on the floor again. He vaguely recalled being jostled awake by a sharp kick at some unremarkable point during the night but other than that Jeno had managed to keep his limbs to himself. The only downside to that was the lack of morning cuddles. There was at least an inch of space between their bodies - a space Renjun wished didn’t exist. Having Jeno’s strong arms wrapped around him would’ve been a pleasant way to wake up, all soft and warm. Instead, Jeno felt miles away, blissfully unaware of Renjun’s silent need for intimacy. Renjun’s gaze traced the slope of Jeno’s nose, the curve of his mouth, the curl of his eyelashes, the little mole on his cheekbone. Every single inch of Jeno’s face was so beautiful, begging to be immortalised in strokes of charcoal against rough paper.

With as much grace as he could manage, Renjun slipped out from under the covers, being careful not to jostle Jeno awake, and tiptoed across the room to the drawer filled with his art supplies. Pencils and pens clattered against each other, drawing a startled hiss out of Renjun as he quickly glanced back to make sure Jeno was still asleep. The younger man hadn’t moved an inch, and Renjun was in the clear. 

He made it back onto the bed without any fanfare, the mattress sinking beneath him as he curled into a sitting position near Jeno’s feet. Propping his sketchbook against his folded knees, Renjun began to draw. He began with a basic outline, scraggly lines to make up Jeno’s face, then his chin and jaw, then his eyes and mouth. The little pink clock ticked monotonously as Renjun sketched and shaded, mirroring each of Jeno’s features on the page in front of him.

He was in love with Jeno. The speed at which the realisation crept up on him was terrifying to say the least, startling Renjun out of the haziness of the early morning. His hand paused, the gentle scratch of charcoal against paper pausing as the room became overwhelmingly silent. Holy shit. He was so in love with Jeno already. Renjun knew this was coming, knew that he was falling for him, but he hadn’t expected to come to terms with his feelings so quickly. He stared at the rough sketch of Jeno’s sleeping face and felt his insides clench painfully. 

“Why’d you stop?”

Jeno was awake, his eyes blinking slowly as he gazed up at Renjun.

“Hm? I was just thinking,”

“About what?”

Renjun couldn't tell Jeno that he loved him, not yet. He needed to come up with an excuse, and fast.

“About what we should have for breakfast,” he blurted. It wasn’t a total lie. Renjun was sure that somewhere in the back of his mind he’d been thinking about food.

“Unless it’s cereal I don’t think I’ll be much help,” Jeno snorted, scrubbing a hand across his sleepy face. His head tilted to the side, revealing the underside of his jaw and a trail of purple bruises along with it. 

Before he could even think about stopping himself, Renjun reached out his free hand and softly caressed the bruised skin. Jeno didn’t say anything, didn’t gasp or make a sound. He just watched Renjun wordlessly, warm eyes trailing across Renjun’s bare chest and charcoal dusted fingertips. It only seemed natural when Jeno propped himself up on an elbow and clasped Renjun’s chin, pulling him in for a short but deep kiss. 

Just then, the sound of the keypad beeping could be heard, followed by the front door opening. Renjun hesitantly pulled away from Jeno’s lips, frowning as footsteps sounded just outside. 

“Jaemin’s back early,” Jeno commented, looking just as confused as Renjun felt. 

They weren’t given a spare moment to attempt protecting their modesty when the door to Renjun’s room creaked open and Jaemin’s head popped through. His eyes widened upon noticing the couple, very much awake and very clearly not in pyjamas. 

“Sorry, I thought you’d still be asleep,” Jaemin apologised, moving to leave only to stick his head in further a second later. 

“I told you the outfit would work,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at Renjun before sprinting from the room with a slam of the door. 

“Is it just me or did Jaemin look like…” Jeno trailed off, frowning at the door.

“Yeah,” Renjun agreed, setting a mental reminder to question Jaemin about his whereabouts the previous night, because something told him that Jaemin hadn’t been at Donghyuck’s. That very same thing told him that his best friend hadn’t been with Jisung either.

They swapped suspicious glances but neither Renjun nor Jeno explicitly brought up the Jaemin’s wild hair or the chain of bruises lining his collarbones - the same bruises Renjun had placed on Jeno’s skin the night before.

Eventually, their stomachs started to protest the lack of food being consumed, and Renjun found himself in front of the stove frying omelettes whilst Jeno kept an eye on the unreliable toaster - one second too long and the toast would go from a barely warmed slice of bread to a charred, inedible brick. 

Fortunately, Jeno was at least capable of ensuring their breakfast didn’t burn or set the apartment on fire, and before long he and Renjun were tucking into their food in front of the television. Jaemin left his room at one point to take a shower, stealing a sip of Renjun’s coffee on his way, but other than that the couple were left to their own devices for most of the morning. 

Was that what they were now? A couple? Jeno hadn’t said anything and Renjun hadn’t asked, but maybe that would be stating the obvious. Renjun was certain he had made his intentions clear, and if he was reading things correctly, so had Jeno. Now, it was just a matter of labelling their relationship. They had been on three dates (five if Renjun counted dinner and breakfast in Italy), kissed a handful of times, and had sex once. Everything felt so out of order, and Renjun had no idea what the protocol was. Had Jeno just assumed that they were now boyfriends, or was he waiting for Renjun to ask? If the latter was true, could Renjun ask now, the morning after their first night together, or was Jeno expecting to be wined and dined beforehand?

“Jun, I can _hear_ you thinking.” Jeno’s voice cut through the flurry of Renjun’s thoughts like a hot knife through butter.

He gave Jeno an apologetic smile. “Sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologise - I just want to know what’s going on in your head.”

Renjun paused, hesitant to reveal the truth behind his overthinking, but it was hard to keep anything to himself when Jeno looked at him like that; all warm and gooey like one of Doyoung’s chocolate chip cookies.

“Are we…” Renjun’s voice wavered with nerves as he forced the words out. “Are we boyfriends?”

“Do you want us to be boyfriends?”

It was a simple question and, more often than not, simple questions required simple answers.

“Yeah.”

Jeno nodded resolutely. “Then we’re boyfriends.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“No, not at all.” Jeno hesitated, his face taking on a wary expression. “Do you?”

Renjun shook his head. “No.”

“Then that settles it,” Jeno said decisively, a smile on his face as he reached out for Renjun’s hand.

And that was that. Huang Renjun had a boyfriend, and it felt pretty fucking good.

☼

“Lee Donghyuck, is this supposed to be a charcuterie board?” Renjun asked, eyeing the collection of gummy bears, popcorn and chocolate chip cookies artfully decorating a makeshift tray crafted from kitchen foil and sellotape. The thought was there, but that did not negate the fact that it was the ugliest piece of handmade kitchenware Renjun had ever set his eyes on.

“Duh, it’s a dinner party staple,” Donghyuck snorted from beside him, looping an affectionate arm around Renjun’s shoulders, using the other to reach for the snacks.

“Yeah, for people who have wine and cheese nights,” Renjun argued, raising an eyebrow when Donghyuck proudly crunched down on an unpopped corn kernel.

“We have wine and cheese,” he countered, gesturing towards the living room where the rest of their friends were gathered. 

“Boxed wine and pizza doesn’t count.”

“It does for movie nights.”

And really, Renjun couldn't argue with that. Chucking a mixture of popcorn and sweets in a bowl, he sauntered back into the living room where the rest of his friends were gathered. Yangyang and Yukhei argued loudly over who had control over the remote, with Mark butting in to remind them that it was his tv and therefore his remote. Jaemin sat curled up in the armchair, frowning at his phone and uncharacteristically quiet. If the past week told Renjun anything, it was that Jaemin was doing everything in his power to avoid talking about the night of Leon’s exhibition. Any time Renjun attempted to bring it up, he was immediately shut down by a disarming laugh and the suggestion of food or a drama. It was clear that Jaemin wasn’t ready to discuss his escapades with Renjun just yet, and he would respect that until Jaemin came to him. 

Finally, Jeno entered the room carrying plastic bags filled with cans of beer and a few bottles of the alcopops Yukhei had a strange fondness for. He smiled widely when he noticed Renjun, the corners of his eyes creasing happily as he watched his boyfriend approach. _Boyfriend_. The word made Renjun’s stomach flip, and his cheeks hurt from grinning all week. If Jaemin was acting at all like himself, he would have probably made a comment about Renjun looking like a serial killer or something just as hilarious. 

“Hey,” Jeno greeted, looping an arm around Renjun’s shoulders as he pulled them both onto the sofa. The material sagged and squeaked beneath their weight, forcing them to squash together - not that either of them minded. 

“I’m really glad you two got your shit together, but if you ever pull any of the shit Hyuck and Mark do then I will happily remove you both from my friend list,” Yangyang announced, dropping into the seat beside Renjun with his mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“I believe you,” Jeno said, giving Yangyang a wary smile as he squeezed Renjun’s arm comfortingly. 

“Stop terrorizing the happy couples,” Yukhei scolded, shoving his flatmate over as he too sat on the sofa. By this point, Renjun was practically in Jeno’s lap. “It’s no wonder you can’t get laid if that’s your attitude to romance.”

Miraculously, Yangyang actually chose to shut up rather than argue back, noiselessly leaning over and grabbing a handful of popcorn out of Renjun’s bowl. Donghyuck appeared from the kitchen, carrying a bowl around three times the size of Renjun’s. 

“Alright,” he announced, dropping onto the floor beside Mark. “We’ve picked the movie this week, and if any of you complain I will not invite you back.”

After a round of muffled groans and muttered complaints the room quietened down and the lights went dark, the blue light from the tv screen casting oddly shaped shadows across everyone’s faces. 

The moment the movie began, Renjun knew what it was with one hundred percent certainty. He also knew that Donghyuck would not be alive come morning. 

“Really, Hyuck?” Jaemin scoffed as the title screen appeared, whilst the rest of the room rumbled with amused laughter. Renjun felt Jeno tense beneath him, and they glanced at one another with matching expressions of offense. 

The words _My Best Friend’s Girl_ flashed across the screen like the world’s most obvious joke. 

“We’re not inviting Hyuck next week, are we?” Jeno whispered into his ear. 

“Absolutely fucking not,” Renjun whispered back. 

Something sharp jolted his side, like a bony elbow. Yangyang’s bony elbow to be exact. _I warned you_ , his eyes seemed to say and Renjun couldn't do anything but glare right back. 

“How about we do movie night, just the two of us? I can bring strawberry cheesecake ice cream,” Jeno suggested in a low murmur, a warm hand encasing Renjun’s waist. 

He turned to face Jeno with soft eyes and a quiet smile.

“That sounds perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Perfect.”

If they snuck a quick kiss when their friends weren't looking, that was for Renjun and Jeno to know, and for everyone else to never find out.

☼

_one year later_

☼

  
  


Falling in love with Jeno was like painting. It took some time, and mistakes were made along the way, but they were fixable with the right brush and just a little bit of patience. Sometimes colours clashed, or the little details didn’t look quite right, but in the end the artist was left with a masterpiece. It wasn't always perfect and not everyone liked it, but it didn't have to be either of those things. If the artist liked it, then that was enough. 

The past year had felt like a page in Renjun’s sketchbook, a collection of drawings that grew slowly over time until it became one of his most prized possessions. Being with Jeno was like artistic inspiration, blindsiding Renjun when he least expected it but leaving him feeling warm with praise after completing the final stroke of paint. 

At times, Jeno _was_ Renjun’s artistic inspiration, and that had never felt so true until now. The drawing felt like it was burning a hole in Renjun’s bag as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. It had been lying in there for months, but he had never been able to work up the courage to give it Jeno until now. It made sense though, what with it being their one year anniversary. 

Before Renjun could reach out for the keypad and punch in the code, the door opened with a metallic shriek to reveal a slightly disheveled Jeno. It was irritating, really, how good he looked despite the shimmer of sweat along his brow and the splatter of what looked to be some sort of sauce decorating his shirt. 

“Don’t come in yet!” he said, giving Renjun a warning look before he disappeared back into the apartment, letting the door swing shut behind him. 

Renjun blinked at the door, completely and utterly bewildered. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Jeno’s last text, just to double check the details. 

_be home by five! i’ve got a surprise for you_ _♡_

If anything, Renjun was late, the little numbers at the top of his screen telling him it was five twenty. His boss, Taeyong, had asked Renjun to help organise the set up of a book signing display, an event that was scheduled for the next day. As it turned out, life-sized cardboard cutouts of tall men were much harder to put together than one would expect, and Renjun had struggled with the stupid thing for far too long before enlisting Taeyong’s help. After he was finally allowed to leave, Renjun had rushed home only for his boyfriend to lock him out. 

A few more minutes of scrolling through social media passed by before the door opened again. Jeno looked far more organised this time around, his hair combed back and his shirt free of any suspicious stains. 

“Oh, can I come in now?” Renjun asked, and Jeno’s smile turned sheepish.

“Sorry about before,” he apologised, “Things weren’t really going to plan.”

“Things?” Renjun repeated, curiously peeking around Jeno to see what awaited him.

“Dinner, to be more accurate,” Jeno explained. “Dinner wasn’t really going to plan.”

Renjun had to make a conscious effort to stop his face from scrunching into a grimace as memories from the last time Jeno had attempted to cook came to the forefront of his mind. 

“Don’t worry, though,” Jeno jumped to reassure, a slightly panicked look in his eyes. “It’s all under control now.”

Renjun wasn’t entirely convinced, but he let it go for the sake of the occasion. Jeno finally stepped aside and allowed him into his own home, catching the back of Renjun’s heels when he stopped abruptly upon entering the living room. 

Fairy lights hung from the curtain poles, their reflections in the window looking like tiny constellations of stars. The coffee table no longer looked like it had been dragged in from the street (which it had), now covered by a soft red tablecloth, and decorated with a flickering candle in the centre. Music played softly through a bluetooth speaker and the scent of food flowing from the kitchen actually smelled good. 

“Happy anniversary,” Jeno uttered quietly, his arms coming to wrap around Renjun’s waist from behind. 

“You did all of this for me?” Renjun asked, suddenly on the verge of tears as he took in the sight before him.

“Hm,” Jeno hummed into his ear, and Renjun could feel the thud of his heart where their bodies touched. 

Jeno pressed a lingering kiss to the back of his neck before letting go, and Renjun silently mourned the loss of Jeno’s warmth. 

“Come on, I’ve been slaving away all day in the kitchen, and I don’t want all of my efforts to go to waste.”

Renjun allowed himself to be ushered towards the table, gentle yet insistent hands pushing him to the floor. 

“We should really invest in a dining table,” Renjun muttered, wincing when his knee cracked like a glow stick. Dishes clattered quietly in the kitchen as he awaited Jeno’s mysterious dinner, and Renjun briefly wondered if Jaemin had helped this time too. He was a little doubtful of that since Jaemin had been spending more time at his new boyfriend’s place than he had been at the apartment he paid rent for. Not that Renjun could blame him. He was hardly one to say no when Jeno invited him to stay overnight at his much nicer apartment across town.

There was a metallic clang followed by a hushed curse and then Jeno appeared, clutching huge pasta bowls in each hand. 

“I know it’s not exactly like the real thing,” he said as he sat the bowls onto the table, “but I wanted to recreate our first dinner together.”

Renjun stared down at the food, mouth dry and eyes stinging. The strands of pasta were a little duller than the ones from Italy but instantly recognisable nonetheless. 

“Jeno,” Renjun croaked, sniffling surreptitiously as he gazed across the table at his boyfriend. “It’s the best pasta puttanesca without olives I’ve ever had.”

That startled a laugh out of Jeno. “You haven’t even tried it yet.”

“I don’t have to. I can tell it’s undercooked so I’m telling you now, and then I won’t have to lie.”

“You can undercook pasta?” Jeno sulked, staring morosely at his failed creation.

“At least you didn’t repeat last time’s mistake and overcook it,” Renjun offered, but the pout on Jeno’s face stayed put. 

He could tell that Jeno had put a lot of thought into this whole dinner, so Renjun did the one thing he knew would put a smile right back on his boyfriend’s face. Slipping his bag off of the couch, Renjun reached a hand inside and pulled out the brown envelope. 

“Happy anniversary,” he smiled, handing it to Jeno with a tremor of nerves. Jeno had seen Renjun’s artwork before, but never anything like this. Never anything of him.

“What’s this?” Jeno asked, brow creasing as he took the proffered envelope. 

Renjun only shrugged, gesturing for Jeno to open it and see. He watched warily as Jeno’s long fingers ripped along the opening, the brown paper tearing at a speed so slow Renjun felt everything was moving in slow motion. The drawing slid out, inch by inch, until Jeno held it in his hands. 

“Jun,” he gasped, eyes widening as he took in every detail, every line, every pencil stroke, every smudge. “You drew this?”

“Do you like it?” Renjun couldn't help but ask. He’d have been hanging off the edge of his seat if he had one.

The hours that went into that little A4 piece of paper felt like a blur of pencil shavings and eraser debris, scattered across every surface in Renjun’s room like grains of sand. It had taken several tries to get the profile of Jeno’s face just right, the movement of wind in his air tangible with each line of graphite. After that, it was just a matter of sketching in the cobbled streets and narrow buildings, somehow colourful and bright in spite of the monochromatic shading. 

“I don’t just like it,” Jeno answered. “I love it.”

“I love _you_ ,” he added, stunning Renjun into silence.

Jeno had said that to him before, countless times over the past twelve months, but something in Jeno’s voice made Renjun feel like he was hearing it for the first time all over again. 

“I hope you know I’m only doing this because I love you,” Jeno said one evening in early February. He and Renjun were sprawled across the latter’s bed, surrounded by four different screens as they awaited the release of the tickets for Leon’s latest exhibition, refreshing the site every other second in the hopes of nabbing two. 

“I know,” Renjun replied distractedly, only registering the confession once the moment had passed, huddled under the covers hours after the frantic panic buying of tickets. 

Renjun was drifting off to sleep when the memory crashed into him with all the force and subtlety of a freight train, forcing him to sit upright with a jolt. Jeno didn’t have a chance to breath nevermind ask what the problem was, interrupted by a solid punch to the arm.

“Ow, what was that for?” he yelped, clutching the throbbing muscle protectively. 

“For telling me you loved me,” Renjun huffed, only feeling a little bad once he realised that Jeno was likely going to wake up with a bruise. 

“Was it such a horrible thing for me to say?” the younger man groaned, his voice groggy with sleep.

“Yes!” Renjun whined petulantly. “I wanted to say it first.”

Jeno only laughed, not sounding at all sorry for the distress he had caused. 

“Too late. I won.”

“It’s not a competition,” Renjun sighed, flopping back onto the mattress.

“Anything can be a competition if you want it to be,” Jeno said, like he was giving some piece of sage advice. 

“Okay, you’re on,” Renjun sniffed, burrowing his face into the pillow. “I’m gonna give you the best love confession you’ve ever had.”

There was a crinkling of sheets as Jeno nodded his head in agreement. “It shouldn't be too difficult. No one’s ever told me that before.”

It was quiet, just the sound of rain pattering against the glass of Renjun’s window and the crackling of his woodwick candle breaking up the silence. Renjun could only see the shadows and silhouettes of Jeno’s face in the flicker of the candle flame, but he’d spent so long studying the younger man’s face, every feature was practically branded into the backs of his eyelids. 

Reaching out a tender hand, Renjun pulled Jeno’s face a little closer. 

“I love you,” he decided to whisper, pressing a kiss to Jeno’s cheek before huddling into his chest and shutting his eyes. Jeno deserved an honest kind of love, spontaneous and heartfelt. It felt right to say it now, knowing he meant it, rather than waiting until for some perfect moment that may never exist.

“I love you, too,” he said now. The flame from the candle flashed in Jeno’s glittering eyes just like it had on that night back in February. This came pretty damn close to one of those perfect moments.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Jeno exclaimed, pushing himself to his feet. As he walked past Renjun he leaned down and pecked a brief kiss to his lips before disappearing into the bedroom. A second or two later Jeno reappeared, only this time he carried a package in his hands. 

“It’s not as amazing as your gift, but I think you’ll like it anyway,” Jeno explained, handing the package to Renjun with a loving smile. It was heavier than expected, weighty with sharp edges that dug into the palms of Renjun’s hands. 

He glanced curiously at Jeno, but his secretive smile gave nothing away. The paper ripped to shreds as Renjun tore it apart until he was faced with what at first he believed to be a figment of his imagination. After several seconds of long, hard staring, Renjun concluded that he was not just seeing things, and that Jeno had some way, somehow, gotten a hold of the painted version of that little restaurant back in Italy. 

“Wh- How did you get this?”

“With great difficulty,” Jeno admitted. “And by spending copious amounts of money. As it turns out, trying to barter with an Italian over the phone is significantly harder when you can’t actually speak Italian.”

Renjun gaped at the painting in disbelief. The tiny waiter stared back at him, friendly and polite in his little uniform. The green vines of ivy and twinkling lights looked brighter than ever, and Renjun hoped that one day he’d be able to return to the real one. 

“Thank you,” Renjun gulped, happiness fizzing inside of him like a freshly cracked can of lemonade. 

Setting the painting carefully on the sofa, Renjun crawled across the floor until he was situated in Jeno’s lap, their legs tangled together like the strings of fairy lights casting a soft glow across the room. The press of Jeno’s lips against Renjun’s was awfully reminiscent of their first kiss, gentle and breathy like a sea breeze across sun kissed skin. It was the kind of kiss that merely suggested something else, something more, but didn’t beg for it. If he wanted to, Renjun would let Jeno just kiss him for the rest of the night, but tonight was one of those nights where he wanted more - they both did. 

“What about the pasta?” Renjun asked breathily when Jeno picked him up, trailing sloppy kisses down the slope of his neck.

“It probably tastes shit anyway,” Jeno muttered, nipping the skin between his teeth until Renjun let out a hushed groan, legs tightening around Jeno’s waist. The distance from the sofa to Renjun’s room was not far but it took twice the usual time for the couple to make it there, stopping every step or two to lick into each other’s mouths with words of love and adoration slipped in between. 

“I swear to god, if there are rose petals in there I will cry,” Renjun panted, dotting kisses all over Jeno’s face.

“Better get the waterworks ready, then,” Jeno snickered, ignoring Renjun’s offended squawk as he pressed down on the door handle. 

“I hate you,” Renjun cried, pulling away from his boyfriend’s mouth to voice his complaints. 

“No you don’t,” Jeno countered, retaliating with a series of tender kisses that Renjun couldn't help but melt into. “You love me.”

Renjun did love him, just as much as Jeno loved him back, and he wouldn't have it any other way.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand we’re finally done!!!
> 
> firstly, i would just like to thank all of you who have made it this far for your continued support, particularly those who had to deal with the multiple occasions on which i changed my mind about the fic length lol. i didn’t expect this fic to be so well received, and all of your comments and kudos have been so encouraging! i’m really excited to continue this series too – i already have at least one sequel in the works but there will potentially be more if i manage to get my shit together lol. 
> 
> i’ve had so much fun writing this, and i’ll definitely be back with more noren in the future!! i have also set up a [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/angel1c_angel) and [twitter account](https://twitter.com/angel1c_angel) for my writing, so if any of you are interested in keeping up with fic updates and watching me try to figure out how everything works, then please feel free to follow me!
> 
> as always, please let me know what you think! comments and kudos are always greatly appreciated. again, thank you so much! stay safe and stay healthy <3


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